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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143191">Secrets Built Around Secrets.</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweakestthing/pseuds/theweakestthing'>theweakestthing</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Twin Peaks</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Angst, Anxiety, Car Accidents, Closeted Character, Dreams, Ignores Season 3, Internalized Homophobia, Lodge Dodge (Twin Peaks), Love Confessions, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Near Death Experiences, Period-Typical Homophobia, Slow Burn, Suicidal Thoughts, Suicide Attempt</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2021-02-02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-13 08:15:02</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>31,498</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/29143191</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/theweakestthing/pseuds/theweakestthing</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>In the waking world, Harry’s having a difficult time figuring out how to help Cooper.</p><p>In his dreams, Cooper struggles to face himself and deal with his nightmares alone.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Dale Cooper/Harry Truman</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>8</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>32</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Chapter 1</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><ul class="associations">


        <li>
            Inspired by

            <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/22997845">Speaking About Love And Death</a> by <a href="https://archiveofourown.org/users/Aaron_The_8th_Demon/pseuds/Aaron_The_8th_Demon">Aaron_The_8th_Demon</a>.
        </li>

    </ul><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hi all! This is my first twin peaks fic and I'm not really happy with it but it's done so w/e, pease be gentle.</p><p>It's inspired by the wonderful works of Aaron_The_8th_Demon (whose work I just can't get enough of), a car accident I had that still haunts me, tales from being in the closet, country music, Richard Siken quotes (cliched, I know) and all of David Lynch's work. </p><p>I posted all of this at once mostly because I felt like it, but also as a send off to my dying laptop that will be replaced tomorrow, this little machine has done me well and I thought this was a fitting farewell.</p><p>kudos and comments would be greatly appreciated, please enjoy~</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The blinking red of the taillights were all Harry could see through the early morning mist. It was almost like a siren calling him in. As he drew closer, at a careful crawl, what was unmistakably the wreck of special agent Dale Cooper’s car came into view. Harry called over the radio for an ambulance and scrambled out of the truck.</p><p>Despite how fast he wanted to be moving, something inside him stopped him from sprinting to the car. He figured that it was probably fear, the fear of what he might find.</p><p>Harry swallowed thickly and tried to put the thought out of his mind. He was the town sheriff, he was there to serve and protect, and he was there to help. This was his job.</p><p>The car dinged in time with the flashing of the hazard lights, smoke was pouring out of the engine and the tacky scent of gasoline hung in the air. A scattered mess of debris littered the ground. The plastic and glass crunched under Harry’s boots, but the metal did not. He watched his feet, it wouldn’t do to slip, fall on his ass and break his tailbone, especially not now.</p><p>There was something horrifyingly poetic about the way a car buckles around a tree. A manmade machine is no match for the forces of nature that have been around for hundreds of years before the machine was even an idea in someone’s mind, and that tree would still be there long after the car had rusted into uselessness.</p><p>Harry didn’t know what had made Dale run off without so much as a word. He didn’t know how Dale was doing. The last he’d seen of the man was just over a week ago when he’d helped Doctor Hayward put him back in bed, only minutes after they had pulled him away from the broken mirror.</p><p>He frowned as he stared into the gaping black hole of the shattered passenger window.</p><p>For better and for worse, Harry was finally close enough to peer into the car. The first thing he noticed was the way Dale’s suitcase had exploded all over the dashboard and passenger seat. Faintly, he could hear the distorted sound of Dale’s voice. It must have been coming from Dale’s treasured tape recorder somewhere on the floor of the car.</p><p>Then his eyes landed on Dale. He wasn’t moving, he was likely – <em>hopefully</em> – just passed out, he was slumped against the wheel and Harry couldn’t see his face.</p><p>In several long but quick strides, Harry was around the tree and on the other side of the wreck. He staggered to a stop at the sight that met him. Dale’s face was covered in blood and pressed into his shoulder, what little skin Harry could see was shockingly pale. He reached inside the car and pressed his fingers against Dale’s neck. He released a sigh, shoulders sagging with relief, as soon as he felt Dale’s pulse strong and regular beneath his fingertips.</p><p>Harry had never been so happy to hear sirens approaching.</p><p>He tried the door. Harry pulled on it as hard as he could, he even put his foot on the car for leverage, but it wouldn’t budge. His eyes flicked to the smoke coming from the engine. Thankfully it wasn’t black. If it had been then Harry might have a whole lot more to worry about in a very short amount of time.</p><p>The lights of the ambulance came through the mist. Harry saw them through the blown out windows while he leaned into the car to pull Dale back against the seat. He tried not to stare at Dale’s face as he reached around him to unbuckle the seatbelt. It came away with an easy click. Harry pushed it out of the way, and with great effort he twisted Dale’s body around until he could get a grip of Dale’s underarms from behind. The paramedics pulled up beside Harry’s patrol truck, the sirens died and the doors opened, though the lights stayed on.</p><p>One of the paramedics sprinted over to join Harry, while the other went to the back of the ambulance and got the stretcher. Even with the extra help, getting Dale out of the car through the broken window was awkward and difficult, but eventually they managed to pull him free.</p><p>They set him down on the stretcher and the other paramedic strapped Dale in. Harry’s eyes fell on Dale’s face. The blood coating his face was dark but not black, which was a good sign, it meant that he hadn’t been sitting there unconscious for too long. There was a bump swelling on his forehead with a long but shallow cut beside it, it sat to the right of the small wound Dale had suffered only a week ago. Then there was the state of Dale’s nose. It looked like a clean break, and it definitely wasn’t the worst broken nose he’d ever seen. At least the sight was nowhere near as bad as he had imagined.</p><p>It hurt, as though someone was yanking on his insides, to stand there and watch the ambulance go. Every fibre of Harry’s being was begging him to jump in the truck and follow Dale to the hospital. But he’d be no help there and he’d never been any good at waiting. It was better for him to just get on with things and do his job, which at that moment meant calling down the fire department and probably Ed to deal with the car, then he’d have to get some deputies to come and clear away the debris and after that he’d have to go back to the station and get started on the paper work.</p><p>Harry huffed a sigh and made his way back to the truck, it was going to be a long day.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Red.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>A red light flicked on and off, on and off, though it wasn’t coming from inside the room. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grey smoke twisted in the air, like the kind that came from the end of a cigarette, though it didn’t smell like smoke. No, instead it smelt like whiskey. Maybe it was gun smoke? He couldn’t see a gun though, his own either wasn’t there or was simply out of sight. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He could tell he was burning inside. Maybe the smoke was coming from him? But he didn’t drink whiskey. Harry drank whiskey. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The fire inside burned, searing, there wasn’t anything he could do about it besides hiss at the pain. He saw the light flickering up his skin. Now he knew for sure that the smoke was coming from him, spilling out of his mouth to dance in the air before him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It wasn’t until then that he realised he was in his room at the Great Northern. He was sat perched on the edge of the bed, facing the window, and if he squinted he was sure he could make out a car wreck just outside his room. That was where the flashing light was coming from. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He thought that Harry might come by any minute now to sort the situation out. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry was sat on the chair in the corner. Dale wanted so desperately to touch him, to feel the living proof of someone he cared deeply about beneath his fingertips, but he knew if touched Harry then Harry would burn too. He wouldn’t ever forgive himself for that. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s not a car wreck,” Harry said, though his voice was muffled and unfamiliar. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m certain that it is,” Dale returned, quietly alarmed at Harry’s dismissal of what might be a serious accident, someone could be hurt. </em>
</p><p><em>“It’s more than </em>just<em> a car wreck,” Harry said, clarifying, though the statement didn’t clarify anything. </em></p><p>
  <em>“What else is it?” Dale asked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“It’s me?” Dale asked, perplexed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’re burning inside,” Harry said, he pointed out the window at the car wreck. Though it was hard to see in the near pitch darkness, he could tell that there was smoke coming from the engine. Smoke was coming from his mouth. “You’re engine’s broken, you’re beyond repair,” Harry continued, “you’re broken Coop, you know it as well as I do.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>And Dale did, he did know. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Chapter 2</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It wasn’t until the sun was beginning to kiss the horizon, that Harry was able to pull himself away from work to visit the hospital. Dale’s crash had taken most of the morning to deal with, and there was the mountain of paper work that had accrued over the last five weeks, and the small matter of being in charge of an entire town. It was a miracle that Harry had managed to leave the station before nightfall.</p><p>Once he was finally in the hospital, Doctor Hayward gave Harry the run down in the hallway outside Dale’s room. He had expected Dale to be up and running, assuring everyone that everything was fine. Surely a minor car accident couldn’t match up to being shot. He frowned to himself. It might have been a bad sign, or it might just be that now that it was all over, everything Dale had put his body through was finally catching up with him. At least he was awake and cognisant, having suffered nothing worse than a concussion.</p><p>Apparently, the bleeding had only looked dramatic and the gash on his head was not serious enough to cause any real alarm. The cut and Dale’s broken nose had been caused by his head’s collision with the steering wheel and the sheer amount of broken glass that had flown through the car. The tight pull of the seatbelt had likely set back the healing on his broken ribs, and they’d redone the stitches on Dale’s gunshot wound. Besides all that, Dale was miraculously bruised but not broken.</p><p> The sheer amount of bandages wrapped around his head would have been comical, if only Dale were being his usual self and not staring nervously into the adjoining bathroom. He scratched absentmindedly at the small bandages on his hands.</p><p>Dale didn’t even look at Harry until he was close enough to touch. Those hazel eyes were slow to find him, and even when they did, Dale seemed distracted.</p><p>“What happened Coop?” Harry asked as he sat down, watching Dale’s face, which was dower and serious in a way Harry had never seen. He took his hat off and held it in his lap.</p><p>“Harry, I have to get away from here, away from Twin Peaks, away from you and everyone else,” Dale said, fingers harsh against the back of his hand. “There’s something inside me, I can’t stay here, I’ll ruin everything,” he went on, making about as much sense as anything had to Harry over the past few weeks. Usually, Dale was the one that made things at least a little understandable.</p><p>“What are you talking about? What’s inside you?” Harry asked, he leaned forward. He wanted Dale to know that he was listening, even if he didn’t quite understand, he wanted to.</p><p>Harry wondered what had happened in the week he hadn’t seen Dale, what possibly could have happened to him to put him in this state, Harry couldn’t imagine but he was going to try to find out.</p><p>“I came out, but I don’t think it was just me that came out,” Dale said, his eyes flicked over to the slightly open door of the bathroom again.</p><p>“What else came out?” Harry asked. His brows furrowed in confusion, he looked over at the bathroom but he couldn’t see anything in there, when he turned back to Dale again he was staring back at him.</p><p>“Something terrible Harry,” Dale replied, and leaned a little closer to Harry. He curled his hand around his mouth, as though they were conspiring and he didn’t want anyone else to hear, never mind the fact that they were alone in the room. “I think <em>Bob</em> put something inside me, a poison, a rot, something that will infect and hurt everyone,” he whispered.</p><p>Harry couldn’t believe it, he wouldn’t believe it, and it just didn’t seem possible. There was no way that someone like Dale could be corrupted by something as evil as the entity they knew as <em>Bob</em>.</p><p>“You’re disorientated Coop, you’re not infected and you’re not going to infect anyone,” Harry assured. He reached over and gently set his hand down on Dale’s shoulder, just to prove it to him. Dale stared at the hand with restrained horror, but he didn’t say anything. “This case, these <em>cases</em> have been a damn nightmare, you got shot, Annie’s still in the ICU and you only pulled her and yourself out of that godforsaken hellhole a week ago. On top of all that you just had a car accident and you’ve got a concussion. You’re not thinking clearly,” he rationalised, “Coop, you gotta give yourself some time to heal or you’re gonna burn out,” he finished, staring Dale dead in the eyes.</p><p>Dale closed his eyes and took a deep breath. He seemed to be considering what Harry had said, which was a good sign, because frankly he’d been starting to scare him.</p><p>“I suppose you could be right,” he said after a long moment of silent consideration. It wasn’t much but it was a start, something that Harry could work with at least.</p><p>“When was the last time you took some time off?” Harry asked. In all honesty, Dale didn’t seem like the type of guy that took time off. As far as Harry could tell, Dale had given his mind, body and soul over to the FBI. In a way it was admirable, to see someone so dedicated, but in another way it was deeply saddening. Even Harry knew that you had to have something outside of work to live for. You had to have something else, a family, friends, romantic partners, hobbies, interests, something, anything that would stop you from going off the deep end. To know that Dale didn’t really have anything outside of the bureau, it made Harry’s heart ache for the guy.</p><p>“I don’t remember,” Dale said after another tragically long moment of silence.</p><p>“That’s not a good sign Coop,” Harry said, softly squeezing Dale’s shoulder.</p><p>“Yes, a vacation is likely long overdue.”</p><p>“I’d say so,” Harry replied, he patted Dale’s shoulder and stood from the chair. “Do you want me to call Gordon and tell him what’s going on?” He asked, staring down at Dale, he looked too small, drowned in the pillows and sheets.</p><p>“You probably ought to Harry, I don’t think I’d be able to talk to him myself, not in my current state at least,” Dale said thankfully, head sinking into the pillows.</p><p>“Alright Coop, I’ll give him a call,” Harry said. He was glad to see Dale allowing someone else to take care of something, even if it was something as small as calling his boss. “Ed’s managed to get your stuff out of the wreck, your car was totalled though, was it a rental?” He added, hoping to take as much off of Dale’s mind as he could.</p><p>“It was on loan from the bureau,” Dale said, he was clearly struggling to keep his eyes open, “it’s insured.”</p><p>“Well that’s good,” Harry said and put his hat on. “Is there anything else I can do for you Coop?”</p><p>“No Harry, you’ve done more than enough,” Dale replied, his eyes had slid closed while Harry was talking.</p><p>Harry didn’t feel he had done enough, not by a long shot, but he didn’t see the point in arguing about it.</p><p>“Alright,” Harry said, “if they’ll let me, I’ll bring you some coffee and cherry pie from the Double R tomorrow,” he added, quickly thinking of something else he could do for Dale. He’d never seen Dale say no to a cup of coffee. He felt like he needed to do more, to make up for no being there when he’d needed him. And if getting Dale some pie and a cup of coffee helped then Harry was going to do that.</p><p>“That’d be swell Harry,” Dale said in a slow drawl, smiling at the thought of coffee and pie, he was quite obviously falling asleep. Harry supposed he should let Dale get some rest, he didn’t seem to allow himself much of it.</p><p>“See ya Coop,” Harry said, he patted Dale’s leg and left the hospital for home, though his mind seemed to stay in that room with Dale.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>The mirror was in a thousand shattered pieces scattered across the sky. Dale could see himself laid out against the bedspread in his room at the Great Northern in his blue pyjamas, his limbs looked disturbed and disjointed in the splintered reflection. He was broken. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale closed his eyes and turned his head away, unwilling to see whatever else might show up in his reflection. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He opened his eyes and found Harry lying on the other side of the bed. Dale’s stomach churned. He wasn’t sure why, but the sight of Harry laying beside him made him scared, as though he’d been caught doing something he wasn’t supposed to. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why are you here Harry?” Dale asked. “You can’t be here, it’s not safe,” he added, there was nothing that he wanted less than to put Harry in danger. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m here because you want me to be Coop,” Harry said. They were lying so close together that Dale could taste the whiskey on his breath. This close Dale could see every single short hair that made up Harry’s stubble, the lines settling into his face, and the flowing hues of brown that made up the colour of his eyes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I don’t want to get you in trouble Harry, you better go,” Dale said. He wanted to look away, but he didn’t know where to look. If he rolled over then he’d have to glimpse the mirror again and he couldn’t bear the thought of seeing Harry’s body as disjointed and broken as his own. “I really think you ought to leave.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’ll leave when you want me to,” Harry said, gruff voice huffing whiskey into Dale’s face again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The problem was that Dale didn’t want him to. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Chapter 3</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>News travelled fast through Twin Peaks. When Harry went into the Double R on his lunch break, everyone there asked after Dale. Norma even gave him the coffee and cherry pie on the house, you might have thought that she’d be sour on Dale considering what had happened to her sister, but Norma had a good sense about her and recognised Dale for the decent guy he was.</p><p>Shelly told him to give Dale her best, wishing that he got well soon, noting that it already felt strange not to see Dale in the diner. Pete asked about every detail of Dale’s injuries and said that he should probably lie down for a month straight. And Margaret said something vague and cryptic about rest and truth, which Harry assumed meant something good or at least he hoped so. And he left the diner with a slew of well wishes and an arm full of coffee and pie.</p><p>Harry wondered how Dale could think that he’d ruin anyone when he’d so clearly had such a positive effect on the whole town.</p><p>As he drove over to the hospital, Harry hoped that Dale was doing at least a little better than when they spoke the day before, hoped that he was a little more himself. Harry couldn’t remember seeing Dale scared in the month or so that they’d known each other. Dale was the most cool-headed man Harry had ever met, he had remained calm and collected, completely in charge of himself and everyone else around him in the face of things that had raised the hairs on Harry’s arms, even Hawk’s breezy coolness couldn’t match up.</p><p>Harry walked through the starkly lit hallways, coffee balanced on top of the take-out box, and dodged nurses and patients on his way to Dale’s room. He got the door open with his elbow and kicked it closed behind him.</p><p>“Afternoon, Harry,” Dale called from where he was half sat up in bed, his head was heavily pressed into the mountain of pillows beneath it, he gave a short wave. His head was still comically bandaged.</p><p>“Hey Coop, you seem better,” Harry said and set the take-out box and coffee down onto the over-bed table.</p><p>“I have the dutiful care of the hospital staff, the industrial strength pain killers flowing through my body, and the rest that you and everyone else has recommended to thank for it,” Dale returned, smiling, though it was a poor imitation of the one that Harry was so used to. It was still an improvement, since Dale hadn’t smiled at all yesterday.</p><p>Harry smiled back. He didn’t want to discourage Dale, and he was happy to see his friend looking better.</p><p>“I managed to get you a whole cherry pie,” Harry said as he began to open the take-out box, “unfortunately Doc Hayward said strictly no caffeine, so I got you a decaf,” he added, pulling out the paper plates and plastic cutlery Norma had handed him.</p><p>“Though I would greatly prefer a real cup of coffee, I understand that it’s not currently possible,” Dale said, the corners of his mouth twitched, belying his true dissatisfaction. “I am truly thankful that you’ve taken time out of your day for this, Harry,” he said, as though he’d just remembered himself, forcing his smile wider.</p><p>“It’s nothing Coop,” Harry waved him off. It was the least he could do, since Dale had done so much for him, for the whole town, and it wasn’t like Harry would have wanted to be anywhere else anyway. He cut them each a slice of pie and set them on the paper plates. “Everyone at the Double R sends their regards,” he said, and pushed the table over Dale’s lap, leaving Dale’s share of the cutlery on the tabletop. He took his own slice of pie and coffee, careful to make sure the one left on the table was the decaf, before he settled into the chair beside the bed.</p><p> “Did you speak to Gordon?” He asked, grabbing up his cutlery.</p><p>“Yeah, I did,” Harry said and took a sip of his coffee. “He said that he was going to send Albert over to pick your notes on the case, well cases, and he’ll take over the paper work until you’re able to finish it yourself,” he explained, using the edge of his fork to cut into his slice of pie, it was awkward with the whole thing on a paper plate in his lap but Harry managed.</p><p>“That’s not really necessary,” Dale said, frowning at his pie, “in a couple of days I will be released from the hospital and will be able to complete the required paper work on my own, though it will be good to have Albert’s perspective on the events that transpired during both cases,” he rambled, piling chunks of pie onto his fork, he shovelled the mound into his mouth and his eyes fluttered closed.</p><p>“Coop,” Harry cleared his throat and stared hard at Dale, who was resolutely not looking at him, still chewing on his pie. “Gordon said that he hadn’t heard from you since before you went into the lodge,” he went on, trying to hide the concern that this little piece of knowledge had etched into him, “maybe you could use the help.”</p><p>Dale swallowed thickly before he spoke.</p><p>“Harry, you’re probably right,” Dale said, pulling his coffee from the holder, he still wouldn’t look at Harry.</p><p>Of course he was right, Harry thought. He wasn’t going to push the issue, not when Dale still had a concussion and wasn’t entirely himself, arguing would be pointless. What he was about to say next made it a moot point anyway.</p><p>“Gordon also said that you’re on sick leave until both he and Albert give you the all clear, and then he’s putting you on mandatory vacation,” Harry said, taking another swig of coffee.</p><p>He knew Dale wouldn’t like that. Harry was pretty sure that Dale wouldn’t know what to do with himself if he wasn’t working.</p><p>“Well,” Dale began, “considering what you said to me yesterday as well as everything Doctor Hayward has said, it’s probably for the best,” he said with a nod. He took a sip of his decaf coffee and sneered.</p><p>“And as I also said yesterday, it’s <em>definitely</em> for the best,” Harry said sternly.</p><p>When Dale finally looked at him, his smile seemed closer to normal.</p><p>“So, where you gonna go on your enforced vacation?” Harry asked, returning Dale’s smile. He’d have liked for Dale to stay as long as possible, he hadn’t been there for long but it was already impossible to imagine Twin Peaks without him. Though he knew that the town held several painful memories for Dale and getting away might do him a world of good.</p><p>“I honestly have no idea,” Dale said and took another bite of cherry pie, it stained his lips red.</p><p>“I figured you might say that,” Harry said with a dry chuckle and shook his head, “isn’t there anywhere that you’ve always wanted to go?” He asked.</p><p>“Not really,” Dale replied, “as I’m sure you’re aware Harry, my thoughts are usually occupied by my work and the boundless wonders of the world currently in front of me, it’s never really occurred to me to desire something else,” he explained, and it made sense in a Dale Cooper kind of way. If you could take as much enjoyment from a simple cup of coffee and Douglas firs as Dale did, then you didn’t need to think about being somewhere else. “Is there somewhere that you’ve always wanted to visit?” Dale returned.</p><p>“Hawaii,” Harry said, without missing a beat.</p><p>“Hawaii?” Dale repeated and forced another mountain of pie into his mouth.</p><p>“Yeah, I’ve always wanted to go,” Harry replied and sipped at his coffee, “especially since I learnt that surfing was a thing you could do,” he added with a laugh, Dale smiled back at him. “Sometimes I just sit back and imagine what it would be like to walk on the beach and not have a damn thing to worry about.”</p><p>“That sounds positively idyllic Harry,” Dale said, still smiling, lips still stained by the cherry pie.</p><p>“There’s really nowhere you can think of that you’d like to go?” Harry asked. He felt kind of selfish for talking about himself when he was supposed to be helping Dale.</p><p>“In all honesty Harry, I think I’d like to stay here for a while,” Dale said, setting his cutlery down. “As you know, I’ve grown quite enamoured with this town and I would like to spend as much time here as I possibly can,” he went on. And reached for his coffee, it seemed to be an automatic action because he instantly grimaced the moment the liquid touched his lips.</p><p>“I would have thought that you’d want to get away from here after everything that’s happened,” Harry said, though he was glad that Dale wanted to stick around. It seemed to contradict what he had said the day before, but Harry thought that might have just been the exhaustion and concussion working against him.</p><p>“I won’t deny that I’ve experienced many troubling things during my stay, but that is to be expected in my role as a special agent,” Dale said. Harry was about to say something, but Dale’s hand went up and Harry shut his mouth. “Of course I don’t get shot on every case or held hostage or visit another realm for what I am lead to believe was two days, but as a member of the bureau I am mentally prepared for negative and disastrous events to occur during my investigations,” he explained, “these events have in no way affected my feelings on the town as a whole, which I have found delightful from the moment I arrived.”</p><p>“Well, I’m glad to hear that Coop,” Harry said, finishing off his slice of pie. “Annie Blackburn wouldn’t have anything to do with that, now would she?” He asked, smiling as he set down his fork on the now empty paper plate.</p><p>Dale took a deep breath and seemed to deflate a little, maybe it was because he’d finished his slice of pie and the decaf didn’t seem to gel with him.</p><p>“Harry, I’ve had something of a revelation regarding my relationship with Annie Blackburn,” Dale said gravely.</p><p>“Oh?” Harry asked, brows raised, he waited for Dale to continue.</p><p>“Since escaping the Black Lodge, I’ve had a lot of time to consider the relationship and have come to the conclusion that it was nothing more than simple infatuation. I’ve come to realise that I tend to rush into things. I may have grown to love her truly if the relationship was allowed to develop naturally, but this is not what happened. I also doubt, after what she’s been through, that Annie would want to continue the relationship,” Dale said, barely taking a breath, he glared at the cup of decaf.</p><p>“Well, I’m sorry to hear that Coop, you seemed real happy together,” Harry said, frowning.</p><p>“Thank you Harry,” Dale said, closing eyes, he leaned back against the pillows. They had been talking for a while, and Dale was recovering from a car accident (not to mention whatever else he’d been through in the Black Lodge), it was no wonder he was getting tired. And he’d only had one slice of pie, so he definitely wasn’t feeling his best.</p><p>“Alright Coop, it’s about time I got back to work,” Harry said and stood from the chair. He closed up the take-out box and set it aside on the bedside drawer, he figured that Dale might want more whenever he woke up later. He took the decaf though, knowing that Dale wouldn’t want to finish it. Hot or cold, Dale Cooper wasn’t one for decaf coffee.</p><p>“See you Harry,” Dale murmured, fingers barely lifted in an attempt at a wave.</p><p>“I’ll come by again tomorrow,” Harry said, though he wasn’t sure whether Dale had heard him or not since he didn’t reply, and left the room. He dumped the nearly full cup of decaf coffee in the trash.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Lights passed over the window. It was too slow to be strobe lights, they weren’t flashing, and it seemed more like they were moving past the window. There was also a rushing sound coming from outside. Though it didn’t sound like running water or the wind, and when he looked out the window it didn’t seem like there was a storm brewing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It was with some alarm that Dale realised that he was in a car, though thankfully he wasn’t the one driving. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry was driving. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Where are we going?” Dale asked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He looked out through the windshield and saw nothing but the road ahead illuminated in the headlights. The road markings approached and disappeared beneath the vehicle in a pleasing rhythm, Dale wondered why they were driving in the middle of the road, though there didn’t seem to be any other cars out that night. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You wanna get away?” Harry asked, eyes resolutely on the road ahead, Dale noticed that he wasn’t wearing his hat. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Away from what?” Dale asked, watching the way the lights moved through Harry’s dense curls. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry shrugged, it was strangely dismissive. His hands were positioned perfectly on the wheel. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I think it’s kinda cowardly if you ask me Coop,” Harry said, still facing forward, his tone was harsh. He wasn’t yelling though, thankfully, the memory of Harry in that much distress still troubled Dale. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What?” Dale asked, confused by the apparent non-sequitur. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Running away,” Harry said. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale wasn’t running away, despite what it looked like, he was trying to keep everyone safe. Leaving was the only way to keep everyone safe. Like cutting cancer out of the body, Dale had to leave Twin Peaks, least he poison the whole town. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I’m still here,” Dale said because he knew he couldn’t explain it. He couldn’t tell the truth, and he especially couldn’t tell Harry. There was no way that he could have stood the disgust in his friend’s face at the revelation of what Dale had become. It would be better for everyone if he just left. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“But for how long?” Harry asked. His eyes were dark and inky in the low light. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale knew that Harry couldn’t read him that easily, but he worried that it was written all over his face. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Darkness coated the room in shadow, the only way to tell that it was his bedroom was the stench of whiskey that hung in the air. Harry blinked until he could make out the shapes of his furniture.</p><p>When he had gotten back from the hospital the night Dale had finally left the lodge, he hadn’t been able to sleep despite how utterly exhausted he’d been. He had hit the sauce, an old habit that had yet to die, just so he could sleep. That habit had caught on in the last week, Harry told himself that it was just to help him get to sleep, that was all. He needed to sleep.</p><p>There was something, something itching under his skin that just wouldn’t let him settle. Harry wasn’t surprised after the crazy events of the last month and two weeks. The town had never seen so much death and destruction in such a short amount of time. Harry hoped that they’d seen the last of it. He didn’t know how much more of it the town could take. He didn’t know if he could take it.</p><p>Harry dragged his hand down his face. He didn’t know what he would have done if Dale hadn’t come out of the lodge. He probably would have sat out on that log until someone dragged him away, and they’d have had a hell of a time doing it without knocking him out. And he knew he would come back. He wouldn’t be able to stay away, he needed to be there when Dale came back. He needed to be there for Dale.</p><p>He felt like an idiot, a poor excuse for a friend and lawman, for not looking in on Dale. Sure he’d been busy, but he could have made the time. He should have made the time.</p><p>Dale was keeping something from him, he could tell that much. There had to be a reason why Dale hadn’t called Gordon. It was so unlike him not to get straight back to work, not to report in with the bureau, and especially not to contact Diane. They might not have known each other for very long but Harry knew that much. There was clearly something going on.</p><p>If he wanted to go back to sleep, he probably shouldn’t think too hard about it, Harry thought. He didn’t know what Dale had seen, what had happened to him in the lodge, and he probably didn’t want to. He didn’t want to think about it.</p><p>There were a lot of things he didn’t want to think about. He didn’t want to think about all the ways in which Josie had betrayed him, all the ways in which she’d used him, and most certainly he didn’t want to think about whether she really cared about him at all. He didn’t want to think about all the things Laura Palmer had been through before she’d died, and all the anguish and terror that had been going on under his nose. He didn’t want to think about how it had been Leland Palmer, didn’t want to remember the man’s long drawn out death. He didn’t want to think about whatever it was Windom Earle had been doing as he ran havoc around Harry’s town.</p><p>Most of all, Harry didn’t want to think about what might have happened if Dale’s accident had been fatal.</p><p>Images came, without Harry’s consent, and assaulted his mind with what could have been. Mangled flesh and pure white bone, things that even most surgeons won’t see in their entire career. The kind of wrecks he would call Hawk down for and definitely not Andy. The kind where it was hard to tell where the car ended and the person began. The kind that required the Jaws of Life despite the obvious lack of it, where there were no signs of life. Harry had only seen three of those throughout his entire time at the station and he was damn sure thankful for it.</p><p>He closed his eyes, held them scrunched shut, and tried to will the images away.</p><p>Albert would be arriving tomorrow. It’d be his fourth visit to Twin Peaks, and though Harry had come to understand him a little better, he hoped it’d be his last. He was thankful for their help, but Harry wasn’t in a rush to have a need for the FBI to be crawling around his town again. Hopefully Albert would be able to set Dale straight, put that rational bluntness of his to good use, and Harry would have one less thing to worry about. And then things could finally begin to go back to normal.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dale didn’t recognise the room he was in or the bed he was perched on. He griped the edge of the mattress, fingers digging into the sheets, creasing the fabric. He needed to get off of the bed. Something bad would happen if he didn’t, he didn’t know what, but he knew it would be bad. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was someone behind him, on the bed. He could feel them shifting, their weight dipped the mattress, they were drawing closer. He could see their shadow looming over him. That shadow grew as they got closer still, until Dale could feel the heat of them from behind him. The air smelt of whiskey. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He knew that whiskey and coffee went well together, but he wouldn’t ever dare try it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Fear like ice spread out through his body as he waited to be touched, he didn’t want to be touched, it would ruin everything. If that hand pressed down on him and touched his skin, then the poison inside him would infect them, and Dale couldn’t let that happen. He leaned forward and bent himself in half. His stomach twisted and he thought he might throw up, and he didn’t want to ruin the rug. He swallowed back the taste of bile. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale put his head in his hands. There were bare polished floorboards beyond the edge of the rug, and Dale suspected that he might be in some sort of log cabin. He watched that shadow climb over his own and crawl across the floorboards. That heat from before could be felt again, permeating the air between himself and whoever it was behind him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He was conflicted, Dale wanted to move back and into that warmth, but he knew without a shadow of a doubt that he couldn’t let this person touch him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>It occurred to Dale that this person might have already touched him. They were both in a bedroom and on a bed, together, the implication was clear. That thought churned his already fragile stomach. He curled his toes into the rug, dug his fingers into his temples, and willed the rising bile away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The scent of whiskey filled his nose again. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Whoever it was behind him pressed their broad hand flat against his left shoulder blade and Dale instantly spilled the contents of his stomach onto the rug. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Chapter 5</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry was secretly thankful for Albert’s arrival. Albert had known Dale far longer than Harry had and would likely have better insights about what was going on inside the man’s head. It was precisely why he didn’t say anything when Albert insulted Andy the moment he stepped through the door, Harry figured that Andy could take it, and his deputy should have probably expected it at this point anyway.</p><p>“Mornin’ Albert,” Harry said, cup of coffee in his hand, warming his palm.</p><p>“And what a fine morning it is,” Albert said, clearly sarcastically, turning those barbed words on Harry. “So, how did you let a special agent get into an unforced car accident?” He asked, staring gravely at Harry. All relief at the sight of Albert’s dower expression left him in a rush.</p><p>“I didn’t realise that a grown man was my responsibility,” Harry returned, despite himself and all the thoughts he had been permeating his mind since he’d got the call and noticed that the description matched Dale’s car.</p><p>Albert’s frown deepened, which Harry hadn’t previously thought possible.</p><p>“I’ve got Coop’s files in my office,” Harry said, he could already feel a headache coming on and he didn’t want to stand there while Albert chewed him out in front of the whole station.</p><p>The shattered mess of Dale’s suitcase was sat on Harry’s desk, Dale had checked out of the Great Northern and it wasn’t exactly evidence, but keeping it in his possession felt strange. He opened it, which meant setting one of the halves down beside his feet. Albert stood opposite him on the other side of the desk.</p><p>As far as Harry could tell, Ed had been able to reclaim nearly all of Dale’s things, though they’d only found one pair of socks. Harry wondered if Dale only had two pairs or if they’d gone the way of so many socks before them and just disappeared. In some vindictive twist of fate, the only thing that had been broken was Dale’s tape recorder, which had slowly died and seemed to be missing some components when they finally found it. Harry found the sight of it deeply upsetting.</p><p>Dale’s files had been impeccably packed, inside a manila folder, tied with twine and sealed inside a large envelope, he’d expected nothing less. Harry passed the envelope to Albert, along with the four remaining tapes they had found, though Harry thought that they should probably go straight to Diane, all things considered. Albert tucked everything away into his briefcase and turned his sour expression back on Harry.</p><p>“Look Albert, I know I should have checked up on him,” Harry said, though he didn’t know why he needed to explain himself to Albert of all people, he just felt like he should.</p><p>“Well I’m glad you’ve got that much self-awareness at least,” Albert returned flatly.</p><p>Harry sighed, settled down into his chair and finished off what was left of his coffee.</p><p>“A man comes back from a plain beyond our understanding and you just left him to stew in his own damaged brain juice for a week,” Albert went on, still standing, now looming over Harry and his desk. “I expected more from you Harry, but it looks like I shouldn’t have.”</p><p>“Alright Albert, I get it,” Harry said, hands held up in surrender between them, “but it’s done,” he added.</p><p>Albert nodded and finally sat down.</p><p>“How’s he doing?” Albert asked, hands braced against the briefcase in his lap.</p><p>“When I first saw him in the hospital, he seemed paranoid? Disturbed?” Harry said, looking off out the window as he remembered Dale’s troubling behaviour. “He kept saying that he had to leave otherwise everything would be ruined and it’d be his fault,” he continued, brows furrowed, it still bothered him. The thought that Dale could ruin anything was beyond comprehension, at least in Harry’s mind. “He seemed a lot better yesterday though,” he added, hopeful.</p><p>“And how did he act immediately after leaving ‘the lodge’?” Albert asked, using air quotes because of course he did, even after all the evidence of the supernatural he had witnessed, Albert was still a sceptic at heart.</p><p>“He wasn’t conscious when he came out,” Harry said. Dale and Annie had appeared in the circle of sycamores on the ground and unconscious. “It wasn’t until he was back in the Great Northern and the Doc had given him a once over that he really came to,” he went on, and braced himself for the reaming he knew was going to follow his next words. “He’d been out for about a day, so I wasn’t surprised that he went straight for the bathroom,” he swallowed, wishing he had more coffee or maybe something stronger to drink, and continued, “he must have slipped or something, we just heard a crash, and when we went in there the mirror was broken and he was bleeding from a small cut on his forehead,” Harry finished and rubbed his fingers against the stubble on his jaw.</p><p>“And you didn’t think that this behaviour was a cause for concern?” Albert said.</p><p>“I thought he just needed to sleep it off,” Harry said, echoing the same thing he had said to himself with the insurmountable amount of paperwork waiting for him back at the station on his mind. “Coop just seemed a little loopy, he’d been in that place for two days, so I figured that he was exhausted and could use the rest,” he added with a shrug.</p><p>“So you left him alone for nearly an entire week?” Albert asked, his face hadn’t changed, but Harry could just feel how he was seething beneath his skin.</p><p>“How many times am I going to have to say that I know I shoulda checked in on him?” Harry asked. He was swiftly losing his patience. “I know I fucked up Albert, but it’s done, so I just need to get onto fixing it,” he said, jaw tight as he closed his fist around the arm of his chair.</p><p>“I’ll have to talk to him,” Albert said, as though Harry hadn’t spoken at all, “to discern his mental state, and to discuss the events around the accident and the previous week that he’s spent practically AWOL,” he continued.</p><p>“I figured as much,” Harry said with a nod. “Did you want me to drive you over?” He asked, preparing to stand. Doctor Hayward was Dale’s attending and he and Albert weren’t exactly on good terms, Harry figured that he should act as liaison.</p><p>“I want to look over the material first, there might be some clues in here,” Albert said, tapping his briefcase. “I’m going to sequester your conference room and I’ll need a way to listen to these tapes,” he went on, as though he was Harry’s boss, Harry swallowed his yelping pride. It hadn’t bothered Harry when Dale had come sweeping in and took charge straight away, but that had been an entirely different situation.</p><p>“Sure thing Albert,” Harry said and rose from his chair.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>The television buzzed with static on the table before him. Dale waited for it to clear, watching the static roll like drifts of snow. It had been so long since he had seen snow. His job at the bureau took him all over the country and in the last two years he hadn’t seen a single fleck of snow, having been sent to the exact parts of the country at specific times of year to miss it completely. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Eventually, the image cleared. It was one of those small televisions that were usually used for surveillance, and Dale supposed that it was connected to the closed-circuit camera system. The screen showed the view of a room, one that looked like the conference room in the station at Twin Peaks, and a man was sitting at the table staring at a small television. Dale leaned forward and the man on the screen made the same movement a few seconds later. He turned around. His eyes scanned the ceiling, searching the skirting, but he found no camera staring back at him. When he looked back at the television, he caught a few seconds of his own face. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale frowned, perplexed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Someone was watching him. How or why, Dale didn’t know. He searched his mind and found it empty besides a pervading sense of unease, though that was hardly surprising given the circumstances. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Perhaps they knew. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>That thought shot through him like lightning tearing through a tree. Dale was struck still. He began to feel as though an ice-like-sludge was moving through his body, it started in the pit of his chest and spread out toward his limbs until it reached his toes and fingertips, he felt numb. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He couldn’t move, he wouldn’t dare, and if he did it might give him away. Anything he did might give him away. Dale wasn’t sure how that worked, but it didn’t matter, not everything always made sense. He knew that better than anyone. He had to stay still, otherwise something awful might happen. It didn’t help that his back was to the door. If someone was watching him through it, if they were creeping into the room, then he wouldn’t be able to tell until they were upon him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale couldn’t feel a thing, besides the intense sense of fear rattling his nervous system. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Chapter 6</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry moved through the corridors of the hospital with urgency, arms again laden with pie and coffee, though this time he’d picked up extra for Albert and switched out one of the coffees for a carton of milk for Dale. Albert had left for the hospital without notifying Harry over an hour ago. Sure, he’d told Lucy where he was going, but Harry was on to him, he’d wanted to go on his own so that Harry wouldn’t be able to intervene as he drilled Dale. Albert was lucky that Harry hadn’t been able to leave his office for all the damned paper work he was <em>still</em> sifting through.</p><p>He didn’t bother knocking before he entered Dale’s room. He wanted to catch Albert off guard, though he didn’t think that was possible, the man was nothing if not unflappable. He’d quite literally taken Harry’s fist on the chin. All Harry managed with his little act of surprise was startling Dale, which just made him feel like an asshole.</p><p>“Afternoon Coop,” Harry said, and set his load down on the over-bed table, “Albert,” he added, nodding to the agent sat in a chair beneath the window on the other side of the bed. “Thought you fellas could do with some lunch,” he said, opening the take-out box.</p><p>He could feel Albert’s eyes on him. The man’s expression was a note graver than it had been that morning, and Harry tried to ignore it even as its presence began to disturb him. He wondered what had happened to make Albert impossibly sourer, as he set out the paper plates.</p><p>“Harry,” Dale said, smiling up at Harry, it still wasn’t the same smile that Harry was used to, “I hope you didn’t bring me anymore of that awful decaf coffee, not to be ungrateful, but I think we’ve managed to find the only kind of coffee that I can’t stand.”</p><p>“I got you a carton of milk,” Harry said and passed it over into Dale’s smooth hands, “the coffees are for Albert and me,” he added, he held the aforementioned coffee out over Dale’s body, waiting for Albert to take it.</p><p>“Thanks Harry,” Albert muttered with a nod and took the coffee.</p><p>“It’s no problem,” Harry returned, ignoring how surprised he was at the gratitude, “there’s plenty of pie too, if you want some,” he added and set about dividing up the slices.</p><p>Once everyone had a slice of Norma’s sweet cherry pie, and Dale had delicately opened his carton of milk, Harry sat himself down. Dale looked tired. There were dark circles beneath his eyes. Harry figured that he would look much the same if he’d been in a car crash, gotten a concussion and had to sleep in a hospital far from home, though Dale had never mentioned home.</p><p>“How you feeling Coop?” Harry asked, cutting into his slice of pie. Dale was already chewing on his second mouthful.</p><p>“Much better, thank you Harry,” Dale said, though something about Albert’s demeanour kept Harry from believing it. Maybe Dale was feeling better physically, but that said nothing about his mental state. “Doctor Hayward said that I might be released tomorrow, though he wants me to stay under supervision until the end of the week,” Dale explained and swallowed down some milk.</p><p>“Supervision?” Harry asked. He imagined some nurse sitting in room 315 at the Great Northern while Dale yammered into his tape recorder, which he wouldn’t be able to do since the machine was now beyond repair.</p><p>“Yes,” Dale said, “if I can’t find someone to supervise my out-patient recovery then I’ll be moved to a ward,” he went on, and frowned slightly, “I imagine that experience to be something akin to those few days when that Icelandic group had been staying on my floor, I did not enjoy that experience Harry.”</p><p>Harry remembered Dale complaining about the noise the Icelanders had made. It had disturbed his sleep, and that had soiled his usually cheery mood. Harry doubted that an environment like that would do much to help Dale recover.</p><p>“You could stay with me,” Harry said, before he could really think about it. “I’ve got plenty of vacation days racked up and Lucy’s been bugging me to take some time off,” as had Hawk.</p><p>He resolutely ignored whatever look it was that Albert was sending his way, and waited for Dale to say something.</p><p>“Oh Harry, I couldn’t impose, you’ve been much too cordial as it is and I wouldn’t want to wear out my welcome,” Dale said, politely refusing as Harry knew he would.</p><p>“You wouldn’t be imposing, and it’s the least I can do Coop,” Harry said. And it really was the least because he should have been there, he should have noticed, and he had to atone somehow lest the guilt swallow him whole.</p><p>“I think it’s a perfect solution to the problem at hand,” Albert announced, dumping his cup of coffee into the trash, he stood and left his half-eaten pie on the table. Dale sent his colleague a look that could have spoiled milk. “Harry, a word,” Albert said.</p><p>“Okay,” Harry drew out and rose with a grown from the chair. He left the pie on the table but took the coffee with him, he didn’t trust Dale not to chug it the moment he left the room.</p><p>Harry threw a smile at Dale and followed Albert out into the hall. He knew Albert wasn’t one to beat around the bush, but his gut still lurched with apprehension as he watched Albert close the door behind them.</p><p>“What is it Albert?”</p><p>“I’m not going to lie to you Harry, it’s not good,” Albert began. “He’s experienced something that few, if any, have. He’s experienced some mental trauma and needs time to settle back into himself. Something is bothering him, something he refused to tell me about until I threatened his career,” he went on in his usual clipped manner of speech.</p><p>“Albert, was that really necessary?” Harry asked. He could only imagine how something like that would make Dale feel.</p><p>“It was the only way to make him talk, and Gordon would have told him the same thing,” Albert said, “he’s not well Harry, and he needs to talk to someone. I think it should be you,” he added, hands disappearing into his pockets.</p><p>“Me?” Harry muttered, he almost pointed at himself but he knew Albert would tease him for it.</p><p>“Yes, you sheriff,” Albert returned, “from my understanding, the two of you have grown some amount of camaraderie and trust throughout your time working together, if he’s going to talk to anyone, it’s going to be you,” he continued, blandly stating the facts in a way that left Harry feeling exposed.</p><p>“Alright,” Harry said, he scratched at the back of his head. He wouldn’t deny that he and Dale had grown pretty close over their time working together. You don’t wait out in the woods, day and night, with your eyes trained on one spot for no one. “But what makes you think that he’s gonna open up to me?” Harry asked. No one opened up to him, apart from Andy but Andy would spill his guts to just about anyone, most people that Harry got close to did nothing but lie to him.</p><p>“Harry, Cooper’s rattled, he needs a solid dependable presence and that’s just you all over,” Albert said, seemingly put out by the smallest amount of platitudes.</p><p>“Well now, that might be the nicest things you’ve ever said to me Albert,” Harry replied, unsure of what else to say.</p><p>“Just stick with him and be patient,” Albert said, his hand came out of his pocket and landed on Harry’s shoulder, “I’ll be at the end of a phone call if you need me,” he assured.</p><p>“You’re leaving, already?” Harry asked, dumbfounded.</p><p>“I’ve gotten all I can out of Cooper and to be frank with you Harry, I hate talking to Gordon over the phone,” Albert said.</p><p>“Alright,” Harry nodded. “I guess I’ll be seeing you, Albert,” he added, holding his hand out between them.</p><p>“I hope not,” Albert replied and shook Harry’s hand.</p><p>Harry collected his thoughts as he watched Albert disappear down the bright hospital corridor. If he had all the facts straight, Dale was real anxious about something but he was keeping it to himself and Harry just had to stick by him until he was ready to spill his guts. Harry sighed and dragged his hand down his face. He finished off his coffee and turned back to the door to Dale’s hospital room, he stared at the cheap wood finish as though he might find the answers in the faux wood grain.</p><p>It wasn’t just Dale’s body that was broken it was his mind too. He wondered, not for the first time, just what kind of nightmare Dale had experienced in the Black Lodge.</p><p>Harry fixed his face into something he hoped appeared friendly and re-entered the room. Dale greeted him with a cherry stained smile and two empty plates, he’d had enough restraint not to eat Harry’s slice. The sight strengthened Harry’s resolve. He would do whatever he could to help his friend become himself again.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>The bar top, bright and sticky, shone up at him. Dale didn’t know whether he was sweating profusely or it was just the condensation sliding down the outside of his beer, he supposed that it was likely both. The barstool beneath him creaked, he had his ankles wrapped around its long legs. The music was loud and thumped along with Dale’s pulse. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Pink neon light bled into the air around him. It burnt electric in every reflective surface, and Dale could have sworn he heard it buzzing above the music. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale didn’t listen to a lot of music. He would listen to anything, but he wouldn’t be the one to put it on. Though, if Dale were to choose to listen to anything, then it would not have been whatever they were playing in this bar. The baseline was overwhelming and the lyrics were repetitive. There was something about it that made Dale anxious, and he surmised that dance music might not be for him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The bartender wore skin-tight clothes and an easy smile. Dale supposed that it was intended to be welcoming, though he found the effect it had on him uneasy. Usually, Dale would strike up a conversation with anyone, but the music was too loud and the bartender was looking at him as though he knew something about him. He turned away from the bar. There was a mass of people standing in the centre of the room, they writhed on the dance floor, and moved as one. Dale couldn’t pick out a single person. The lights kept changing colour and his eyes wouldn’t settle. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A thought occurred to Dale as he sipped at his warming beer. This was not the sort of bar that he would usually find himself in.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>He turned back to the bar and set the bottle of beer down, it had been slipping in his moist grasp. Dale made to order another beer when an arm leaned itself against the bar beside him. The arm was familiar. A tan shirt rolled up to the elbow, revealing the lightly tanned skin of someone who was familiar with physical labour. Suddenly he could smell whiskey. Fear spiked through Dale, the same kind of fear of a child being caught doing something they shouldn’t, he was certain that he was about to be reprimanded and punished somehow. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Cooper.”</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Chapter 7</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Maybe it was sentimental, maybe he had over-stepped the mark, it was definitely the sort of thing his brother would call him a sap for but Harry knew that Dale would appreciate it and that was all that mattered. The brand new tape recorder sat on the kitchen table beside what was left of Dale’s shattered suitcase.</p><p>Harry had taken the day off, the beginning of his vacation and his aid in Dale’s recovery. He was so far in the dark about what was going on with Dale, but he was going to do his best. Albert hadn’t given him much to go on, but he didn’t much enjoy long conversations with Albert anyway, and he figured it would be better to hear it from Dale. That was if Dale ever felt like telling him.</p><p>He spent the morning making sure that his house didn’t look like a dump. Harry wasn’t a slob, but he was a busy guy and didn’t like to spend his spare time cleaning up after himself. He didn’t want Dale to judge him, no matter how unlikely that was.</p><p>Once the curtains were open, things didn’t seem as bad as they had at first. Though the living room smelt faintly of whiskey, Harry was a little ashamed of that but he didn’t exactly know what to do about it, and even if he did he was sure Dale would figure it out anyway. He was spooky like that. At least there weren’t any bottles lying around.</p><p>He gave the house a once over, gathered a few things, and finally left the house around noon. It felt strange to not only be out of his uniform on a weekday but also to be climbing into the cab of his flatbed instead of the one with the county sheriff’s logo on it.</p><p>“Cooper,” Harry called, knocking on the door as he entered the hospital room. Dale’s head lifted from the pillows and for a moment there was a look of shock and horror on his face, before it shifted into something closer to a smile. He didn’t know what to think about that and so he tried not to. Harry noted that Dale looked much better, there was some real colour in his face and what bruises he could see were beginning to fade somewhat. “You ready to go?”</p><p>“I just need to change,” Dale said, sitting on the edge of the bed in those thin as paper hospital pyjamas. “On the subject, Harry, did you bring me a change of clothes?”</p><p>“Sure did,” Harry said and passed over to the paper bag. He had never washed or packed another man’s clothes before, and the act of folding those clothes into the small paper bag had made him irrationally uncomfortable. He figured he would have felt the same had he had to do this for a woman he wasn’t in a relationship with either.</p><p>Dale rose from the bed and made for the bathroom but hesitated for a moment in threshold. His barely there smile faltered, and he went inside, not locking the door behind him. The room became deathly quiet. Harry waited, with his thumbs pushed through the belt loops of his jeans.</p><p>He had a lot of questions, too many, and he didn’t want to bombard Dale with them in a hospital room. They could discuss everything once Dale was settled in. He still felt as though he didn’t know his ass from his elbow, but Harry had been getting used to that feeling ever since Dale had first walked into his life, asking about the trees they had out here in Twin Peaks before asking if he could see Laura’s corpse. He smiled to himself at the memory. Harry had never seen anyone so enamoured with the trees before and he hadn’t been able to look at a Douglas fir without thinking of Dale since.</p><p>“Harry, I feel that whatever words I could choose would not match up to the feeling of finally being able to wear my own clothes after several days of sitting in those shockingly uncomfortable garments this hospital deems to classify as pyjamas,” Dale said as he stepped back into the room, his un-styled hair spilled out over the bandages still wrapped around his head. It was kind of cute and made him look impossibly younger. He was wearing the same clothes he’d worn when he was suspended from the bureau and was working for Harry, a red and grey flannel shirt, dark earthy green-brown pants with cargo pockets and workman boots.</p><p>“I’ll bet it’s one hell of a relief,” Harry said, watching as Dale pushed his fingers through his hair, clearly uncomfortable with its natural state, “you all set?”</p><p>“Yes, I think I am,” Dale said, moving his hand from his head to adjust the way his shirt sat on his shoulders. Harry wondered if Dale had lost some weight in the short time they hadn’t seen each other, he tried not to focus on it otherwise Dale might notice it with his heightened senses and all.</p><p>Before Harry could over think his thoughts or where to put his eyes, Doctor Hayward came into the room. He gave Dale a quick once over, checked his responses, and gave him a solid pat on the shoulder.</p><p>“Now, I really don’t want to see you in here again agent Cooper,” Doctor Hayward said, smiling as he sternly shook his finger in Dale’s face.</p><p>“I will do my best to avoid getting hospitalised for the foreseeable future,” Dale said, smiling back at the doctor.</p><p>As Harry led Dale out of the hospital, he made sure that Dale was within his sight at all times, just in case he collapsed or felt faint or something. He didn’t want him to fall and make his injuries worse. Back in Harry’s brief high school football career, he had sustained his one and only concussion. He still didn’t know exactly what had happened. All he could remember was catching a pass and then he was lying in the grass with a mouth full of dirt. Lights danced in front of his eyes, his head was spinning and he was sure that if he tried to get up then he’d spill his guts across the field, all he could manage to do on his own was grown. After that his mother had barred him from contact sports altogether.</p><p>It was a good thing he’d stayed close, since Dale’s ankle seemed to give out on him and he stumbled into Harry’s side. Dale’s fingers caught in Harry’s jacket, grasping onto his arm. It felt like a bag of bone had been thrown against his side, that thought might have been a bit dramatic but Dale had been skinny to begin with, any loss in weight was instantly noticeable. He moved quickly to catch Dale and held still while the other man found his bearings.</p><p>“I gotcha Coop,” Harry assured, with his arm around Dale’s shoulder.</p><p>“Thank you Harry,” Dale murmured. He stepped free from Harry’s hold and made to move on again.</p><p>Harry made a mental note to keep a keen eye on Dale, lest the smartest man he had ever met crack his egg on the edge of Harry’s coffee table and lose his yolk.</p><p>They made it out of the hospital without further incident, no thanks to the sporadic April showers that filled the potholes and turned them into treacherous traps. Harry helped Dale into the cab of his truck and waited until Dale was properly situated before closing the door.</p><p>He climbed into the driver’s side, switched on the engine and the heater. It was still pretty cold out. Harry didn’t turn on the radio. Something told him that Dale preferred the sound of the road and friendly conversation to music and snappy radio chatter.</p><p>“Harry, I won’t lie, I’m looking forward to seeing where you live,” Dale announced as Harry pulled out of the parking lot and onto the road.</p><p>“Well, don’t get your hopes up too high. It’s not the Great Northern, there’s no room service and I doubt the coffee will be as good, but you’re welcome to stay as long as you need,” Harry said, chuckling to himself, of course Dale would be excited about something like that.</p><p>“I’m sure that your home will prove more than adequate Harry,” Dale said, smiling at Harry’s profile, “whatever it lacks in comparison to the Great Northern, it will make up for with the companionship of a dear friend,” he added.</p><p>“Okay Coop,” Harry said, unsure of what else to say. No one ever talked to him like Dale did.</p><p>The next time Harry looked over at Dale, the other man was sound asleep. He wondered what Dale was dreaming about. From what little he had heard about those dreams, they seemed to be pretty damn out there, and Harry didn’t envy him for that.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dale did not like gas station restrooms, their reputation preceded them, and they were as disgusting as they were known to be. He had not yet found one that was up to scratch. The one he was currently in was not the worst but also not the best, it was middling, average. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a greasy sheen to almost every surface. The fluorescent lights flickered and buzzed at such a frequency that it made Dale wince with every thrumming pulse of light. There was a space above the sink, a clear rectangle, where a mirror had obviously been until quite recently. And the hand dryer looked as though it had gone ten rounds with a pile of bricks. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Using a urinal in a place like this seemed too much like tempting fate. Dale did not want to die in a gas station restroom, he refused to even entertain the possibility. Instead he went for the stalls. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He closed the stall with his elbow, and that much alone felt like enough to burn his suit the moment he took it off, having to touch the lock with his hand was mortifying. Thankfully there was toilet paper, though Dale was certain that he would find the quality lacking. The quality of toilet paper in public restrooms was always questionable at the best of times. He stared down at the toilet seat, there was no way he was touching it. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Before Dale could so much as touch his fly, someone began to bang on the door. Dale’s heart jumped up into his throat. The banging rattled the entire stall, he could hear the hinges and bolts shaking, and he wondered if it was possible for the stall to completely come apart. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Slowly, he turned and faced the door. He couldn’t see anyone but he certainly felt their presence. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale didn’t have a lot of options as far as escape went, at some point he was going to have to face whoever or whatever it was out there. Either he could climb atop the cistern and clamber over the top and into the other stall, or he could get down on the floor and crawl on his stomach into the next stall. The first option was cumbersome and likely time consuming. The second would almost certainly ruin his suit, it was obviously the more disgusting of the two, though it would be quicker and Dale was lithe enough to make the motion smooth. Dale was pulled from his thoughts by the sound of the hinges whining. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Without giving it any further thought, he dropped down to the floor, flipped onto his back, gripped the bottom of the stall and pulled himself into the next one. He could hear his blood thrumming through his ears. The banging continued all the while, the sound bounced off of the tiled flooring and walls. It made for an awful cacophony of maddening knocking. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He tore out of the stall, using his foot to open the door, and pulled his gun from his shoulder strap. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was no one there. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The restroom was completely empty. He checked every stall, gun still drawn, but he was alone. And the banging had stopped. The only sound that could be heard was the continuous dripping of a leaky tap and his own harsh breathing. His heart was still racing. This wasn’t possible. It had taken Dale less than ten seconds to find his way out of the stall, there was no way that someone could have left without him seeing them. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale tripped, nearly falling on his ass, the banging started up again. He swung his gun toward the source of the sound, which was the stall he’d previously been in. the door was still locked. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He crouched down and looked into the stall. There was certainly a person in there, Dale could see their legs, they were wearing black dress pants very similar to his own, and they were wearing Oxfords also shockingly similar to Dale’s own. He stood again, now more confused and terrified than before.  </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0008"><h2>8. Chapter 8</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Despite having expected it, Harry was still taken aback by Dale’s enthusiasm, especially considering that he’d only just stepped out of the hospital. Dale’s eyes flitted around the house as though he were trying to take in the entire expanse of Harry’s home. No one had ever been this excited to see the inside of his home before, and he hadn’t even been this enthusiastic when he had first moved in.</p><p>“Harry, I have to say, you have a charming home,” Dale said, as he followed Harry through the house, though Harry didn’t miss the way Dale’s nose twitched as they moved across the living room.</p><p>“I’ll be sleeping out here,” Harry said, nodding toward the cot he’d set up against the wall outside the bedroom, “so you can have the bed.” It made sense, Dale was still recovering (both physically and mentally), and Harry was willing to sacrifice his quality of sleep if meant that Dale might get better quicker.</p><p>“Though I understand you’re reasoning, I still feel awful about kicking you out of your own bed,” Dale said, staring at the cot with dissatisfaction.</p><p>“Don’t worry about it Coop,” Harry said, and patted Dale on the shoulder, of course Dale was more worried about Harry than himself, “it’s not permanent, and I’m gonna do my best to help you get better,” he added, hoping that Dale would drop the guilt despite knowing how unlikely that was.</p><p>“I know that Harry, and I’m very thankful for it,” Dale replied, he looked up at Harry, “I’m lucky to have a friend as good as you,” he added, and put his hand over Harry’s. His hand was lightly shaking.</p><p>Harry ignored it and laughed lightly, shaking his head, trying to hide the heat he could feel creeping across his cheeks and the tips of his ears, though he didn’t know why he was blushing.</p><p>“Yeah, well right back at you Coop,” he said and stepped away, to make his way into the kitchen.</p><p>Now, with Dale stood in there with him, Harry felt kind of strange about the present burning a hole in his kitchen table. The worst part was that he felt like he was back in high school asking a girl to go to prom with him. His gut twisted and turned. Harry swept those thoughts away, grabbed the tape recorder off of the table and turned toward Dale.</p><p>“I said we managed to recover most of your stuff,” Harry began, holding out the tape recorder between them, “but your recorder got broken beyond repair and, well you’re always chattering into that thing and I thought you might appreciate having it replaced,” he went on, wondering just what the hell he was so nervous about.</p><p>Dale was slow to take the proffered device, reaching out with both hands, his fingers grazed Harry’s palm when he closed his hand around the recorder and finally took it. He examined it carefully, turning it over in his palm.</p><p>“Harry, if I’m not mistaken, this is the exact same make and model as my previous device,” Dale said, and slowly, he raised his head to face Harry again. He was smiling that boundless smile that Harry didn’t know he’d been missing. “You may not believe this, but for once, Harry, I’m speechless. I don’t quite know what to say, beside thank you,” he went on. Dale stopped and stared Harry directly in the eyes like he was trying to prove something. “Thank you Harry,” Dale said firmly, still smiling. Harry couldn’t help but smile too.</p><p>“You’re welcome Coop,” he said. “Do you want some coffee?” Harry asked, though he suspected that he already knew the answer.</p><p>“If I didn’t know better, Harry, I would say that you were sent straight from heaven,” Dale said, he set the tape recorder back down on the table and took a seat, his movements were careful and Harry figured that he was probably feeling a little lightheaded. “You’re a saint,” he added.</p><p>“Well, I don’t know about that,” Harry said, and went over to the coffee maker to put on a fresh pot. He pulled two mugs out of his cupboard. Besides the one mug that Harry usually used, the others was dusty and in desperate need of a good clean. Harry didn’t often have people over, and he couldn’t remember the last time he had someone over for coffee. In all honesty, he very rarely had anyone over at his place. The last person who had stayed with him was Josie, and Harry sure as hell didn’t want to think about that. He rinsed them both out and turned back to Dale.</p><p>Dale had the remains of his suitcase open. Half of it was braced against the table leg while the other was sat atop it as Dale carefully inspected the contents.</p><p>“I suppose I’ll be needing a new suitcase too,” he said, frowning at the wrinkles in one of his dress shirts. He lifted it from the suitcase toward his face and sniffed it. “Harry, did you launder my clothes?” Dale asked, brows knitted together as he stared up at Harry.</p><p>“Yeah, the whole damn thing smelt, kinda like smoke and gasoline, it was a funny smell and I figured I might as well,” Harry replied, hoping that he hadn’t overstepped some sort of boundary. “I probably should have thrown out the suitcase, but I didn’t really have any other way to keep all your stuff together,” he went on, filling the air as Dale silently folded his shirt.</p><p>“This is more than fine Harry,” Dale said.</p><p>Harry watched Dale pick through his belongings and fold his clothes, he was meticulous and his movements were kind of mesmerising in their exactness. Once he was done, Dale took his things into Harry’s bedroom. As soon as he came back the coffee was done brewing.</p><p>Dale stumbled slightly before sitting down a little too heavily at the table again. He looked like a newborn fawn, unsteady on brand new legs. If it wasn’t due to the fact that Dale was still experiencing the effects of his concussion, Harry might not have felt guilty about finding it cute. When he was sure that Dale wasn’t going to fall on his ass, he turned to the counter and poured out the coffee.</p><p>Harry set the mugs down and took a seat opposite Dale. He smiled to himself as he watched Dale take a long sip, closing his eyes and savouring the flavour, it probably made him feel a little more like himself to finally have a real cup of coffee, and that was all Harry wanted.</p><p>Of course the peace couldn’t last. Dale opened his eyes and hunched over the table, both hands wrapped around the mug, he stared into the dark liquid and his expression turned dour.</p><p>“Harry, I’m sure you’re aware, but we need to have a frank and serious discussion about my current mental state. Concussion aside, I understand that Albert explained that I’m having emotional difficulties on top of the injuries I’ve sustained. This may be difficult to hear, but know that it is just as difficult for me to discuss,” Dale began. He barely took a breath as he spoke, which wasn’t uncommon with Dale. His eyes skittered around the room, bouncing off of the counter, cupboards, the window and the sink, which was very unlike Dale. He swallowed before continuing. “I still feel the same paranoia I was experiencing when you first visited me after the accident, though to a much lesser degree, it still proves to be quite the problem. I understand that this paranoia is mostly unfounded and the anxiety it ignites within me is unnecessary, however I am, as yet, unable to do much about it,” his breathing was shallow and his eyes had fallen back to his coffee.</p><p>“I’m sorry to hear that Coop,” Harry said because he was. Dale took a large gulp of coffee. It was hard to watch his friend like this. Dale was one of the most intelligent, capable and confident people Harry had ever met, it was a damn shame, some sort of cosmic crime that this was happening to him. “Is this because of what happened to you in the Black Lodge?” Harry asked. It was the only thing that it could possibly be, as far as Harry knew. He had no idea what had happened in there and could only imagine the torment Dale had been through, he didn’t have to guess that it was bad.</p><p>Dale swallowed, drank some more of his coffee, and nodded slightly.</p><p>“The Black Lodge feeds off of fear Harry, just like <em>Bob</em>, and it fed off of mine,” he explained, flexing his fingers against the ceramic of the mug. “The paranoia and anxiety that I am currently experiencing come from a place of genuine fear that, until very recently, I was able to manage on my own,” he continued, “the Black Lodge played on that fear Harry, it took it and reflected it back at me tenfold, intensifying it,” Dale swallow reflexively, and took a quick sip of his coffee.</p><p>Dale continued to stare deeply into his coffee, he looked like he wanted to crawl out of his skin, and Harry had never wanted to wrap his arms around another man so badly. Harry reached over and curled his hand over Dale’s forearm instead.</p><p>“Coop, you don’t gotta tell me everything straight away, but I’m not going to be able to help too much if I don’t know what’s bothering you,” Harry said, rubbing his thumb over Dale’s arm, “I don’t want to accidentally make things worse.”</p><p>“I understand and appreciate that Harry,” Dale replied, watching Harry’s hand. “It may take a little time for me to confess my fears to you, but your patience and continued devotion as a friend have already caused some level of improvement,” he added, and tried for a smile when he finally looked at Harry.</p><p>“Okay,” Harry said, and nodded. “You want anything else Coop?” He asked after a moment.</p><p>“Another cup of coffee would really hit the spot,” Dale said, his smile grew, and Harry laughed.</p><p>“Easy there fella, I might have to cut you off,” Harry said, still chuckling as he rose from the table.</p><p>He poured Dale another cup. Harry wondered how he was supposed to say no to Dale, especially denying him coffee, he wanted to make his friend feel better and that might mean telling Dale that he couldn’t have one of his favourite things as much as he wanted.</p><p>“I’ll try to take it easy Harry,” Dale returned, smiling still. His hazel eyes shone softly in the warm early afternoon light, catching like a gentle flame. That smile showed teeth, dazzling white, and so dangerously close to convincing Harry that he might be alright.</p><p>Harry certainly had his work cut out for him.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Red light washed over him. It shone through the car, tainting the shade and tone of everything inside, even Dale himself. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The traffic light swayed gently in the breeze but otherwise refused to change colour. Dale wondered how long he’d been sat there waiting for the light to turn green. It didn’t seem like it was ever going to change, and moving without the go ahead of the green light was against the law, but this light seemed faulty and he wouldn’t be able to do anything about it if he continued to just sit there. He figured that the law would forgive him if he ran one red light, besides he hadn’t seen a single soul the whole time he’d been there. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A knocking on the driver’s side window startled Dale from his thoughts. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry’s face appeared, he made the circular hand motion signifying that Dale should roll the window down. Dale fumbled with the door and rolled the window, removing the barrier between them in a shuddering motion, and let the cool breeze sweep in. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“What you doing out here?” Harry asked, looking concerned and disappointed. He leaned into the car with his forearms rested against the door. The red light showered down on Harry’s form, it dipped into the creases and folds of his jacket, and caught on Harry’s badge. He was on duty. Had Dale done something wrong?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“I was about to leave,” Dale said, hoping that it was the right answer, he didn’t want to disappoint his friend. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You were huh?” Harry said as though he didn’t believe Dale. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Yes, Harry, as a matter of fact I was,” Dale returned, he didn’t like the direction this conversation was taking. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You’ve been out here a while Coop,” Harry said, fingers tapping against the inside of the car door. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Have you been watching me?” Dale asked. He tried not to show his confusion on his face, he couldn’t think of a reason for anyone to be watching him, let alone the sheriff. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Everyone’s been watching you.”</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale had the strongest desire to press down on the gas and get as far away from the accusations in Harry’s eyes as possible. He didn’t. For one it would mean hurting Harry and Dale certainly didn’t want to do that, no matter how terrified he was, he would never be able to forgive himself if he hurt such a treasured friend. And there was also the illegality of speeding off. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He flexed his hands around the wheel, feeling the grooves against his palms. Dale swallowed thickly and forced the question out of his mouth. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Why?” Dale asked, though he didn’t want to know the answer. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry opened his mouth, the soft sound of an intake of breath before he spoke, though Dale never heard what Harry had to say. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Chapter 9</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry groaned against the morning light as it spilled though the gaps in the curtains. He had known he wasn’t going to sleep well. The cot, which he’d previously only used for camping, could not compare to his bed and he had refrained from having his nightcap before he’d climbed under the sheets. He had thought, since Dale was just a shout away, that he would be able to sleep without worrying too much. That hadn’t been the case. Harry had woken up every couple of hours, with fear in his heart, and just had to check in on Dale. Though, Dale had been asleep every time.</p><p>He was glad to get off the cot, and stumbled into the kitchen in his sweats. Harry dragged a hand down his face, hoping to pull the sleep from his body, as he brewed a pot of coffee. The scent alone brought him a little closer to the land of the living. He stared into the coffee pot and tried to get his day in order. The thought of a hot shower and settling down on the couch for the rest of the day was all that was keeping him on his feet, that and the promise of coffee.</p><p>The fridge was fully stocked, Harry usually forgot to go grocery shopping and often his breakfast consisted of coffee alone until he could get to the station and grab a few fresh donuts. If Dale was going to be staying with him, he knew he had to have plenty of food. Harry had seen Dale demolish several slices of pie in one sitting without breaking a sweat. And he set about making a hearty breakfast of eggs, bacon, sausage and toast along with the already brewing coffee.</p><p>Harry’s ears pricked at the sound of bare feet padding into the kitchen.</p><p>“Good morning Harry,” Dale said, though he didn’t sound all that pleased about it. Harry supposed that the smell of breakfast had brought him into the kitchen. Dale looked as though he’d gotten the same quality of sleep as Harry, which was unfortunate, and Harry wondered if Dale had been pretending to sleep whenever he had checked in.</p><p>“Mornin’ Coop,” Harry replied. He set a cup of coffee down in front of Dale and turned back to the counter to plate their breakfast. Hopefully coffee and breakfast would make Dale feel better. Harry was pretty damn certain that he could whip up something better than whatever slop they served in the hospital, the food there was famously awful.</p><p>He set the plates down on the table, poured himself some coffee and sat down opposite Dale.</p><p>Harry didn’t know exactly why Dale didn’t have a decent night’s sleep, but he could hazard a guess.</p><p>Though, he knew what had kept him awake. The things they had barely discussed the day before had been rattling around his mind, and Harry hadn’t been able to shut his thoughts off. Dale was still experiencing some kind of intense distress, similar to what had shaken Harry on that first visit to the hospital, but he’d been hiding it for the last two days. It bothered Harry that he didn’t notice.</p><p>Of course, he had noticed that something was wrong, but he’d put it down to the head injury and not the looming shadow that the Black Lodge cast over them. If he never heard about that damn place again it would be too soon. But that couldn’t happen until Dale was better, ‘cause at some point they were going to have to talk about it eventually, and Harry was dreading it.</p><p>“Harry, you’re alright,” Dale said, smiling at Harry, his breakfast lied half demolished on the plate before him.</p><p>“What’d I do now?” Harry asked, smirking against the rim of his mug.</p><p>“You made note, without my notice, of how I like my breakfast,” Dale replied. He held up a slice of cremated bacon the end of his fork. Only Dale Cooper could look so happy at the thought of someone frying bacon the way he likes it.</p><p>“Food is one of the five things you talk about constantly besides nature, law enforcement, coffee and the nature of people,” Harry said. Dale might talk a mile a minute, but Harry always listened to what he had to say. They were friends after all, and this was just what friends did.</p><p>Dale just smiled around the slice of bacon.</p><p>After breakfast, Harry grabbed his first aid kit and checked the now two healing wounds on Dale’s forehead. They seemed to be healing pretty well, as far as Harry could tell. There didn’t seem to be any danger of the more recent one suddenly bleeding again, so he left the cumbersome bandages off when redressing, which seemed to please Dale. He’d helped with the dressing on Dale’s abdomen too. The assortment of bruises and cuts littering the rest of his body were also healing nicely and required no further attention.</p><p>Dale went off to get dressed and left Harry sat on the couch. He wasn’t watching the TV as it played in front of him, instead he thought about what they could do together while Dale recovered. Nothing too physically tasking since Dale was still experiencing some amount of dizziness and they could risk ripping his stitches. Maybe they could take a short hike, depending on the weather. They were two weeks into April and it was probably going to rain every other day, if not more frequently. Hiking might have to wait.</p><p>Movement brought Harry’s thoughts back to the present. Dale had returned fully dressed, with his hair slicked back like usual. He should have seemed more like himself, but there was a stricken kind of stilted nature to his expression and movements, and it was very apparent that something was wrong.</p><p>“Coop,” Harry said, carefully making his tone soft, “something happen?”</p><p>“I’ve become unused to my reflection Harry, and I feel a level of shame at not being able to face myself,” Dale explained, somewhat robotically. His hands were rested in his lap, and Harry noticed how they were shaking.</p><p>“That’s nothing to be ashamed of Coop,” Harry said, closing his hand over Dale’s, because maybe it would make Dale feel better if he couldn’t see it. “No one is gonna judge you for reacting this way, heck, on one’s ever seen what you saw in there. At least no one I’ve heard of.”</p><p>Dale nodded and swallowed, it didn’t seem to change anything.</p><p>Harry knew that he had to do more than just offer Dale his presence and a cup of coffee, but he was woefully out of his depth and Albert hadn’t exactly given him much guidance, not that Harry had expected much from him. But he had never dealt with something like this before.</p><p>“I know you’re trying your best, Harry,” Dale said, he his hand over and gripped Harry’s. “I find your presence soothing and that alone has smoothed some of the edges of my mental turmoil.” It was always kind of spooky when Dale did that, it was easy to forget that he was psychic or at least something like it. Harry tried to play it cool.</p><p>“Thanks Coop, but I know there’s more I could be doing,” Harry said, though if he were pressed, he wouldn’t be able to say exactly what that ‘more’ was. He just knew that he wasn’t doing enough. Maybe Dale should have stayed in the hospital, seen a specialist or something, although the specialist in question would likely be Jacoby and Harry wasn’t so keen on that.</p><p>“These sorts of things take time, unlike my concussion which will be healed by the end of the week or the wounds on my forehead that will have disappeared by Christmas time, it’s unlikely that I will be able to fully recover from my experience without great effort or in any reasonable amount of time,” Dale explained, and Harry didn’t like that, it wasn’t right that the person in pain should have to explain how to be helped. None of it sat right with him.</p><p>“I don’t really know anything about anxiety or paranoia or any of this, but we’re gonna get you through this,” Harry said because he needed to say it, he needed to make Dale believe that this would get better.</p><p>Dale nodded and turned his eyes to the television. Harry tried not to think too loudly, or worry too much, lest Dale hear him. Maybe Harry’s first idea for the day ahead of them was best. He figured that there wasn’t a lot that could go wrong if they spent the whole day on the couch. Dale’s palm was soft and warm against his own.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Slats of light came through, painting Dale in horizontal lines. He stayed as still as he could and stared through the gaps in the louvre doors. No matter how hard he searched his mind, Dale couldn’t remember how he had gotten there. All he knew was that it was imperative that he had not be found out. His heart was jack-hammering against the back of his sternum, the fear of being caught tasted like a battery on his tongue. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He couldn’t quite make out what was happening in the room beyond the closet. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The lights were turned down low, and Dale could only see the silhouette of two people in motion upon a couch. He couldn’t discern the genders of either of them. They were simply dark masses moving in the night. One person seemed to be leaning over the other. It seemed as though they were tangled together, like lovers conjoined. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His palms felt tacky, he could feel himself sweating. He refrained from putting his fingers on the slats, despite the low light, because any kind of movement could give him away. Dale could not afford to give himself away. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sounds, low and soft, came from the people on the couch. Dale strained to hear more. They were gentle moans, and grew louder as the people continued whatever it was that they were doing, Dale figured that he had a pretty good idea of what was going on. He swallowed and kept on looking. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He surmised that he was there to gather some kind of information. Maybe he was on a case and these were suspects or people of interest, he wasn’t sure but it seemed to make sense. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The forms became one, like shadows sliding into each other, and Dale felt strange about watching. He tried to focus on something else. It was probably a good idea to pick out details about the room, it might give him a clue as to where he was, and it might help the case. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a hat on the floor, close to the closet that Dale was hiding inside. He recognised that hat. His eyes moved across the floor and found a scattered mess of clothes that led to the couch. Dale recognised the suit jacket, the tie, the tan shirt, the wool jacket and the badge pinned to it, the dress shirt, the khaki pants, the Oxford shoes and the boots sat beside them. He recognised it all. None of it made sense. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>One word was gruffly muttered, the sound was thick throated, and Dale was ashamed by how it made him feel. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Cooper.”</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Chapter 10</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It had been six days and Harry had felt like he was fumbling around in the dark the whole time. They were working together, which was fine when Dale was cooperative, but (as Harry had feared) since Dale still wasn’t willing to share what was bothering him or even a snippet of what he’d gone through in the lodge, it left Harry with very little to go on. His reflection still bothered him. Dale avoided shiny surfaces and spent as little time as possible in the bathroom, Harry had suggested putting a sheet over the mirror so that Dale could shower in piece, but that only seemed to bother him more. He’d start to shake sometimes and Harry couldn’t tell why. Whenever he wanted to avoid something, Dale would avoid eye contact and stop talking altogether, making it impossible to continue the conversation. He also refused to go outside but wouldn’t say why, which was also troubling.</p><p>So far they had managed to watch several movies that neither of them had any real interest in, make meals together (which really meant Dale sat at the kitchen table and watched Harry make their food), read books side by side on the couch and talk about anything and everything except what they should have been talking about. Harry knew he had to do something, but he didn’t know what the hell that something was.</p><p>While out on a run to the Double R for pie and coffee, Harry had asked Norma if he could use her phone. He belatedly realised that calling long distance and being bounced around FBI offices was sure to rack up her phone bill. He made a note to get Norma to send it to him, and he’d be able to write it off as an expense.</p><p>“Agent Rosenfield,” Albert said in his usual clipped tone.</p><p>“Albert, it’s Harry Truman. I don’t know what the hell I’m doing and I’m probably only making things worse,” Harry began, speaking before Albert could manage to get a word in edgewise, “he needs real help.”</p><p>“Hello to you too sheriff,” Albert muttered.</p><p>“I’m serious Albert,” Harry bit out. He wasn’t in the mood for Albert’s horse shit.</p><p>“And I’m serious when I say you’re being a grade A moron Harry,” Albert returned, “is that head of yours just full of woodchips or did you actually listen to a single word I said?”</p><p>“I listened, but I don’t think he’s gonna just spill his guts to me, he’s too nervous about it,” Harry said, trying hard not to grind his teeth, and took the cord in his fist.</p><p>“It hasn’t even been a week,” Albert said, clearly exacerbated.</p><p>“I don’t want him to lose his job because he didn’t see a professional,” Harry checked his watch, he’d have to wrap this up soon, he didn’t want to worry Dale. “Sure it’s not been a week yet, but how many weeks are they gonna give him?”</p><p>“I’m a professional, he saw me,” Albert said, ignoring most of Harry’s concerns.</p><p>“Aren’t you a coroner?” Harry asked, brows furrowed as he stared down at the beat yellow plastic of the phone, he was beginning to get the feeling that he was being messed with.</p><p>Albert sighed heavily before replying.</p><p>“I didn’t think I’d have to spell it out for you,” he groaned.</p><p>“Albert, I don’t have the time for this,” Harry growled. The receiver creaked in his hand. He closed his eyes, rubbed his face, and tried not to sigh. He didn’t want Albert to hear any more of his frustration.</p><p>“If he spoke about it to a professional certified by the bureau, then certain things would go on his record and he might not have a job after knowledge of these things reached his superiors,” Albert explained, speaking slowly and clearly.</p><p>“So, it’s either me or he risks losing his job?” Harry asked.</p><p>“Bingo,” Albert replied dryly. “Don’t call me again unless it’s actually important,” he added and hung up the phone.</p><p>Harry closed his eyes again, he breathed out through his nose and counted back from ten, it was something the school nurse had taught him to do in middle school after one too many fights and a busted nose. He set the receiver back down on the cradle. The hands on his watch told him that he should have left five minutes ago.</p><p>He moved out into the diner proper, thanked Norma for letting him use the phone and asked her to send the bill to the station, then he ordered a whole pie and two coffees to go. She gave him one of her pleasant smiles and went about filling out his order.</p><p>Once he was in his truck, Harry thought over what Albert had said. There was something that could possibly lose Dale his job. Harry, for the life of him, could not think of what that could be. It couldn’t be anything illegal. The only time Harry had seen him break the law was in the line of duty, following a lead or doing the right thing like when they had rescued Audrey. There was no way that the FBI would fire him for that. And anyway, there had already been an investigation into Dale, everything got straightened out and that case was closed.</p><p>As far as Harry was concerned, Dale didn’t have a bad bone in his body. But Harry didn’t really know Dale. He thought he did, it felt like he did. They had been through a hell of a lot together and that usually meant that you learnt all the important things. He didn’t know the nitty gritty details. Heck, he wasn’t even sure where Dale lived, where he’d grown up, though he was pretty sure that he reported to the Philadelphia offices of the FBI. But he wasn’t completely sure.</p><p>Harry was starting to feel like a lousy friend.</p><p>Though, what did Dale know about him? Besides the basics: that he was sheriff of Twin Peaks, he’d grown up in the town, and he liked coffee and donuts just like any other cop.</p><p>They had seen each other in moments of vulnerability, and had shared the failures of their romantic endeavours. That had to count for something right?</p><p>Now he was being a lousy friend by questioning the validity of their friendship. Harry groaned as he turned onto his road, he was over thinking it. They were friends. They had been friends from practically the moment they’d met. They had gone to bat for each other time and again, Dale had stood beside him after he’d hit Albert and Harry had done the same when the FBI had come to investigate Dale. He had been there when Josie died, had pulled Harry out of the bottom of a whiskey bottle. And Harry had sat on that damned log for nearly two days waiting for Dale.</p><p>This wasn’t the time to question himself or their friendship.</p><p>Albert had said that Harry was the only one that Dale would open up to. That had to count for something. Harry shook his head as pulled up outside his house and put the truck into park. He never thought he’d see the day where he found anything Albert said comforting. It made him feel a little lighter. If someone like Albert could put something as important as Dale’s health and the integrity of his career in Harry’s care, then that was really saying something. He carried that feeling with him.</p><p>He found Dale passed out on the couch. Some sort of hospital drama was playing on the TV, a doctor who looked more like a swimsuit model was talking to a man whose whole torso was wrapped in bandages, it had probably come on after some sort of nature documentary Dale had fallen asleep during. Dale loved watching nature documentaries.</p><p>While he was asleep, Dale looked years younger, almost like a college student. All the strain that had been apparent in his expression as of late was gone from his slack face. A single swish of his usually perfectly styled hair had fallen across his brow, it was curled around the gauze on his forehead, and Harry knew it was going to annoy him when he woke up.</p><p>He was in a flannel shirt and some khaki pants. They were the same clothes he’d been rotating for the past several days, this was the most laundry Harry had done in his whole life, and it was probably time to get Dale some new clothes.</p><p>Harry set the take-out down on the coffee table.</p><p>For a moment, he considered letting Dale sleep for a while longer, but the coffee might go cold and Harry knew he wouldn’t appreciate that. He leaned over and lightly shook Dale’s shoulder.</p><p>“Coop,” Harry called softly, watching as the other man’s eyes flickered open.</p><p>“I must have fallen asleep,” Dale murmured, his eyes surveyed the room as though he were remembering that he was somewhere unfamiliar, and pushed his hair back into order. “You were gone a while,” he added, more a statement of fact than the accusation that left Harry feeling guilty.</p><p>“Sorry about that Coop,” Harry said, he hoped that Dale wouldn’t ask where he’d been or what he had been doing. He knew he couldn’t just lie to him. “Coffee should still be hot, and I’ll get some plates for the pie,” he added.</p><p>“Thanks Harry,” Dale replied, he looked up at Harry with a tired smile and grabbed the coffee off of the table.</p><p>“It’s no problem,” Harry returned and left the room.</p><p>He figured that they could talk later. Whatever Dale was dealing with could surely wait until he was full of pie and coffee.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dale didn’t recognise the clothes he was wearing, at least not at first. He stared down at the articles in question. The plaid flannel shirt was definitely not one of his own, it hung off of his frame and was obviously made for a larger man, and the colours were slightly more vibrant than any of the items that Dale owned. The boxer-shorts, he was certain, were his. The wool socks were not, the grey fabric was large on his feet and bunched up around his ankles. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He brought the shirt up to his nose and took in the scent. It smelt vaguely like whiskey, Dale didn’t drink whiskey. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry sometimes smelt like whiskey. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Was this Harry’s shirt? Where was he anyway?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale surveyed the room, he was sure that he’d been there before but couldn’t quite remember. It was a bedroom. That much was apparent from the large bed he was currently sat on. It felt like he was in a log cabin, the effect was cosy and welcoming, he was almost tempted to fall back into the bed. The room wasn’t entirely familiar but Dale couldn’t say that it wasn’t Harry’s bedroom. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>What was he doing in Harry’s bedroom, wearing Harry’s clothes?</em>
</p><p>
  <em>His throat clicked when he swallowed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There were a few reasons as to why he might be in someone else’s bed while also wearing their clothes. He could have been in some sort of accident and required rest as well as a change of clothes, hypothermia may call for such action, but Dale felt perfectly fine. Perhaps there had been a storm the night before and he had been caught in it. Dale ran his hand through his hair and felt the clear evidence of the gel he used to style it, meaning that he hadn’t showered and definitely hadn’t been caught in the rain. The only option left was one that made Dale’s gut twist into knots. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Even if they didn’t have intercourse, it was likely that there had been some kind of sexual interaction. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale reached out and pressed his palm against the other side of the bed, it was still slightly warm, which meant someone (Harry) had left shortly before he had woken up. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His heart began to beat a pounding rhythm into his ribs. It rocked his body, and he could hardly think over the sound of it rushing through his ears, a sudden cacophony. Despite all the evidence before him, Dale didn’t want to believe it was true. He didn’t want to know that he’d allowed himself to do something that might sully someone as important to him as Harry. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Sounds came from beyond the door. Dale froze, his heart and all thought stopped. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Chapter 11</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“Harry, if you don’t just come out with whatever it is that’s bothering you, then we might get to witness the freak event of spontaneous human combustion,” Dale said, sounding about as irritated as Harry had ever heard him.</p><p>“Huh?” Harry had been staring out the window over the sink, thinking about the same thing he’d been thinking about since he’d spoken to Albert a few days before. He had meant to bring it up, but he just hadn’t figured out how yet.</p><p>“Talk to me Harry,” Dale demanded, staring across the kitchen table at Harry.</p><p>“Albert told me to wait for you to talk to me,” Harry replied. He didn’t want to put Dale through any unnecessary stress and most especially if he wasn’t ready to talk about it yet.</p><p>Dale leaned forward, elbows on the table, and rubbed at his temples. He was probably picking up on Harry’s thoughts, Harry thought, and it probably didn’t help that his discomfort had been growing over the last few days. It had to suck to be tuned into to other people’s thoughts and feelings all the time.</p><p>“Harry,” Dale groaned, eyes closed.</p><p>He figured that he might as well come out with it. Dale couldn’t blame him, he hoped, since he’d asked for it.</p><p>“I spoke to Albert on Thursday,” he began, blunt nails tapping against his mug, coffee cooling in his palm, “that’s why I was gone for so long,” he explained, even though Dale could have figured that much out for himself. “You know I’ve got no idea what I’m doing here Coop, and he’s the only person I could think to talk to,” he added with shrug.</p><p>“You’re doing much better than you think you are,” Dale said, and managed to finish off his coffee while still hunched over the table.</p><p>“Coop, you flinched yesterday when I put my hand on your shoulder,” Harry said, remembering the way it had stung despite knowing that Dale couldn’t help it. “And what about the time you overheard me talking on the phone?”</p><p>“That’s not your fault Harry,” Dale muttered, staring at his hands, he set the now empty mug aside, “those are my problems.”</p><p>“And I’m supposed to be helping you,” Harry said. They’d had this particular circular conversation before, and neither of them was ever willing to allow the other to shoulder responsibility or blame.</p><p>“Harry, where were you going with this?” Dale asked, he sounded tired.</p><p>“Albert said that whatever it is that you’re struggling to deal with could get you fired,” Harry explained, his mouth was dry.</p><p>“Ah,” Dale said, he eyed his empty mug, likely wishing he still had something he could use to stall with, “he’s not wrong,” he added eventually.</p><p>“You gonna tell me what it is?” Harry asked. “I don’t want to force you, but I don’t feel like we’re making much progress,” he went on, he wanted to reach out and reassure Dale but he wasn’t going to risk startling him again. “Coop, I don’t think there’s a single thing you could have done that’d upset me enough to run you out of town,” he said, and he meant it. He’d had plenty of time when he wasn’t sleeping to think about it and he was pretty damn certain. “You’re my friend and I just wanna help you get better.”</p><p>“I appreciate the sentiment Harry, but logic doesn’t quite apply to my current issues,” Dale said, he smiled bitterly at Harry.</p><p>Harry tried not to feel frustrated, and stopped himself from running a hand down his face.</p><p>“Sometimes, Coop, you just gotta do something and deal with the consequences,” Harry said, “if all you ever do is worry about what might happen, then you’ll never end up doing anything.” Harry said, he repeated it to himself every time he ever felt nervous about doing something.</p><p>“Albert said something similar,” Dale murmured.</p><p>“Maybe I should take it back,” Harry groaned into his mug, and lapped up the last dregs of coffee. That got a small chuckle from Dale, so Harry jotted that one down as a win, though he knew it wouldn’t work every time.</p><p>“Harry, I’d like you to wait until I’m finished speaking before offering any comment,” Dale said after a moment, his eyes skittered over Harry’s face. He was finally sitting up properly.</p><p>“I think I can manage that,” Harry nodded and sat up a little straighter in his seat, mirroring Dale.</p><p>“First could I get another cup of Joe?” Dale asked, he held out the mug toward Harry.</p><p>“Sure thing Coop,” Harry said and rose from the table.</p><p>He gathered up their mugs and plates, he put the plates in the sink to be dealt with later, and luckily there was enough coffee left in the pot for two more cups. Once the coffee was all poured out, Harry put on another pot, just in case. He came back to the table, heart thumping in his chest. As soon as the mugs were set down and Harry was back in his seat, Dale began.</p><p>“Harry, in the past I made you aware of my romantic woes. Even if they weren’t as tragic or violent as my relationships with Caroline and Annie, every single one of my romantic endeavours has ended in abject failure,” Dale said, hands wrapped around his mug. “Part of that failure is not my own and is rooted in societal expectations and personal bigotries,” he went on, staring down into his coffee, he swallowed before continuing, “which has made me wary when pursing a romantic relationship.” Dale took a long sip of his coffee, closing his eyes, apparently collecting himself.</p><p>It wasn’t lost on Harry that Dale had used a lot of words to say nothing much. He supposed Dale was working up to something and Harry knew that he had to be patient, he had been patient for over a week now, and he could wait a few minutes longer.</p><p>“I’ve had relations with both women and men,” Dale eventually managed, breath gushed out of him like a waterfall, “I’m bisexual,” he added, eyes locked onto Harry’s. “Being attracted to men has never jeopardized an investigation, but if certain people in positions above me found out, then there is a small possibility that I could lose my job,” he said, and he looked completely dejected by his own words.</p><p>Harry bit his tongue. Just the thought that whoever Dale happened to be in love with could lose him his job infuriated him. Dale was the best damn lawman that Harry had ever come across, and he couldn’t imagine that he would ever put an investigation in danger over something that wasn’t anybody’s business.</p><p>“To make matters worse, I believe that I rushed into my relationship with Annie in order to avoid my attraction to men, namely a specific man who resides in Twin Peaks,” Dale said, the nerves were beginning to show in the shake of his voice, he took another sip of his coffee. “It was these things that the Black Lodge chose to focus its torment on as I tried to escape,” he explained, “these are deep seated fears that I’ve held for some time, and they ignited the intense paranoia that led to my accident.”</p><p>They were quite for a long moment before Harry realised that Dale was finished. It was only then in the silence that Harry noticed Dale’s leg bouncing beneath the table, he was obviously nervous.</p><p>“So, you think or the lodge made you think that you’re gonna get kicked out of town for liking another guy?” Harry asked.</p><p>“It’s a bit more intense than that Harry,” Dale replied. “I understand that it is an irrational fear, but I felt that if I were to ever make my feelings known to this person that I would somehow be tainting them, and by extension the entire town that I now hold dear to my heart. I could not allow that to happen, and so I tried to leave,” he explained, and drank some of his coffee.</p><p>“But you don’t think that anymore?” Harry asked.</p><p>“The feeling hasn’t entirely gone away, but I no longer believe that if I were to let my feelings be known that the town would somehow begin to rot and decay, no,” Dale said, his shoulders were slowly reaching his ears as he hunched further over the table.</p><p>“You’re just worried about losing your job?”</p><p>“I’m worried about confessing my feelings, being rejected, everyone finding out about said feelings and my personal proclivities, never being able to return to this town because of the shame and fear, and losing my job,” Dale said, he went to drink more of his coffee but there was nothing left, and frowned into the empty cup.</p><p>“That’s a lot to carry around Coop,” Harry said. He had worried about people finding out about him and Josie, he wasn’t so worried about it losing him his job, but he didn’t want people spreading rumours and lies around about her. That on its own had been plenty to carry with him. There was something else that he carried around with him that was much closer to what Dale was dealing with, but this wasn’t the time or place to think about that.</p><p>“Yes it is. So you can see why I’m currently struggling under the weight of my own fears,” Dale said, almost completely folded over the table, it certainly looked like it was bearing down on him.</p><p>“Well Coop, I can assure you that whatever happens with this guy, you will always be welcome in town as long as I’m sheriff,” Harry said and drained his mug.</p><p>“While those words are quite welcome Harry, it’s not something that you can promise and you may react differently in the moment,” Dale murmured, head leant against his arm on the table.</p><p>“You’re my friend, there’s nothing that’s gonna change my mind about that,” Harry said, trying to catch Dale’s eye as he leaned forward to wrap a reassuring hand around Dale’s forearm, “I promise.”</p><p>Dale tried to smile, but Harry could tell that his friend didn’t believe him.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>The grass was tall. It came up to his waist and caught on the buttons of his shirt as he moved through the field. The field was familiar to him, though he hadn’t been there for several years. The last time he was there, the grass had been up to his shoulders, and he had been quite distressed.  Though Dale couldn’t remember what he’d been distressed about. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale knew he was distressed now. He also didn’t know why that was either, he searched his mind and nothing came up. That was troubling in itself. He hoped that making his way through the field, putting it behind him, would make the discomfort disappear. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a derelict shed in the middle of the field. It felt like an omen, something that stood in the centre of things, the eye of a storm. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Without a second thought, Dale crouched down in the grass and searched the ground until he found a small stone. It sat solitary in the palm of his hand. He rose again and faced the shed, he threw the stone up into the air and caught it again, and then he threw the stone at the shed. It felt like something he’d done many times before. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The stone flew out of his hand. It shot straight for the shed, went through the already shattered window and broke something inside, if the crashing sound that followed was anything to go by. Dale flinched at the noise. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He knew the shed was abandoned, he knew that no one cared about the state of it or its contents, but Dale still felt guilty about it. He flicked his eyes across the field, but there was no one there. Despite that, someone might come along to see what had made that noise and he might still get in trouble. In several long strides, Dale approached the shed. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Careful to avoid the shattered glass, he peered through the broken window. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was a mirror leant against the wall, it wore the classic crack of a strong impact, the stone was lying on the floor among a few scattered tiny shards. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Seven years bad luck. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A bird cawed in the distance, startling Dale from the window. He scrambled backward and slipped in the long grass. Dale could see the birds, crows, flying overheard as he fell backwards, and strangely thought about the fact that a group of crows is called a murder. He landed in a sprawl in front of the shed. Wincing, Dale brought his hand to his face to find several shards of glass sticking out of his palm. Blood ran down his hand and slid over his wrist. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Chapter 12</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry knew he hadn’t done anything wrong, or at least Dale kept assuring him that he hadn’t, but he damn sure felt like it. He rolled over, pressed his face into the couch cushions, and groaned. He’d traded the cot for the couch though the difference was negligible. Ever since they had left the table at breakfast, he felt like he’d done something wrong.</p><p>Dale had spent the rest of the day flicking through one of the beaten paperback books from Harry’s forgotten bookshelf. The only reason it wasn’t coated in dust was the once over he’d given the whole house before Dale had arrived, if it weren’t for that then the whole house would have still been in disarray, and the realisation shamed him a little. He wasn’t exactly house-proud but a man should be able to look after his own home, especially if he wanted to look after someone else.</p><p>It hadn’t seemed like Dale was enjoying Christine. Harry had never pegged him as a horror fan, and definitely nothing as pulpy as Stephen King, and he supposed that his suspicions had been right as Dale kept frowning into the pages. From the looks of it something was bothering him and just didn’t want to talk about it.</p><p>Harry had tried to busy himself, leaving Dale to it. He figured if Dale wanted to talk to him then he’d know where to find him, the house wasn’t big enough to get lost in.</p><p>There were a lot of things out in his backyard that needed fixing. He’d been avoiding it, leaving it until everything had thawed out, and they were coming up on the end of April now. The snow had turned to puddles and those puddles were getting smaller every day. There was a plank of wood from his porch that Harry had put his foot through the summer before, he’d meant to replace it, he’d even removed the plank and brought a whole bunch of wood straight from Pete, but he just hadn’t gotten around to it. The grill could do with cleaning out, though they were still a ways from the season for grilling. And there was the sorry state of his shed.</p><p>He managed to get half way through sorting his shed before the sun began to dip beyond the horizon. There was so much trash he had kept just in case, in case of what Harry wasn’t sure anymore, though he was pretty sure he would never find a use for the several plant pots that stood stacked in one corner. Five or so years ago, Harry had contemplated the idea of tending to his garden. He supposed he was looking for a hobby beyond watching sports and drinking. That desire hadn’t gotten any further than buying those plant pots.</p><p>Dinner was quiet. They had barely spoken after breakfast, and Harry hated that, Dale used to be so damn talkative. Harry, himself, had never been much of a conversationalist. He didn’t know how to start a conversation, let alone keep it going. At least he could make a decent meal. Beyond that he was starting to feel useless, as far as his utility in Dale’s recovery went.</p><p>Dale had come out with what was bothering him, and it hadn’t seemed to solve anything. Of course Harry hadn’t expected for Dale to suddenly return to the man he thought he knew, but there didn’t seem to be any amount of relief in revealing those secrets. He supposed that there were more difficult conversations in their near future.</p><p>He watched shadows crawl across the ceiling and listened as the house settled, sure that Dale was doing something similar if the circles growing and darkening beneath his eyes were anything to go by. Harry wished he was a braver man. If he had been, then he might have revealed some secrets of his own, but he was too much of a coward and had buckled in the face of Dale’s vulnerability. It remained, though, that Harry could have provided his friend some amount of comfort. He tried not to groan as he dragged his hands down his face.</p><p>His throat was parched. Harry knew that it was just the desire to stop thinking and let it all slip away with some whiskey. Resolutely, he stayed where he was. If Dale was awake, then he was sure to hear him moving around the house.</p><p>There were so many things he could have told Dale. Things like the way he’d been embarrassed the first time he’d had to change for gym class with the rest of the boys. The way his eyes had wandered without his consent, how the sight of another boy’s skin had felt dangerous and made him feel like something awful was about to happen, and still he couldn’t stop himself from looking. Things like the way his father had always scolded him for being too soft. The constant push toward sports and hunting, to man up at the ripe old age of seven and help his father and brother skin a buck, he still remembered the flushed pink of muscle his father’s beaten hands had revealed. Things like the electric tingling sensation that had stayed on his lips after his first kiss with a boy. The way he’d stood there stunned like a rabbit in headlights, heart stuttering dizzyingly in his chest, waiting for the wheels to crush him but they never did.</p><p>Maybe it was hypocritical of him to tell Dale that it would be okay, when he could barely bring himself to reckon with his own feelings. They weren’t the same person though. Harry could protect Dale, as sheriff and as a respected member of the community, but also as his friend. If the town knew about him then he wouldn’t be any help to anyone. Sheriff was a publicly appointed position. There was no way that he would be able to keep his job if everyone knew, and shamefully, he had worried that he would be run out of town. When he thought about it, he knew he was wrong. Of course there would be some that wouldn’t take kindly to it, but there would be others that wouldn’t mind and probably more that would ignore it as none of their business.</p><p>If he told Dale, then it might make things a little easier, might make Dale trust him more. He would try tomorrow, Harry told himself, hoping that making plans would let him sleep better. It didn’t.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Shadows played across the wall. The headlights of passing cars washed them away, and moved them across the wall and ceiling, stretching them out across the white expanse. It must have been deep into the night for the moonlight to be so strong. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale reached up his arms, stretching out like a cat across the carpeted floor, and watched his fingers twist and curl over the horizontal lines of the blinds. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Another shadow joined his. A hand, somewhat larger than his, danced along the wall. Fingers twining together with the aid of shimmering moonlight, like lovers holding hands, mimicry of romance. Dale pretended to feel the warmth. He imagined roughness and calluses against his own smooth palm. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Standing, Dale watched his shadow grow across the wall into the form of a man. The other shadow joined him. A man just slightly taller than him, with curled hair beneath a cowboy hat and a strong nose, appeared on the wall beside him. Their hands came together again. Dale wasn’t sure whether he imagined the warmth this time. If he wasn’t mistaken, the room was beginning to faintly smell like whiskey, though he couldn’t be sure if he wasn’t imagining that either. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A car passed and their shadows grew and stretched like a strange zoetrope. Once the car had gone, their shadows returned to normal. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The man’s face was close to Dale’s, barely a few inches between them, and he wondered if he would feel the touch of lips against his own. They drifted toward each other. Dale could feel, he knew it now, the heat rolling off of the other man’s body. The scent of whiskey grew stronger. Very suddenly he realised that he could feel little puffs of breath waft across the bottom half of his face. He brought his hand up to the man’s shoulders, and felt the thick wool of a jacket against his hand. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Their lips were slow to come together, but the feeling was unmistakable. Breath mixed with his. The man tasted faintly of whiskey and donuts, and Dale thought that he might grow to like the spirit but never as much as the pastry. Fingers slid around the back of his neck. The hold wasn’t possessive but protective, and Dale wanted to stay right there for the rest of time. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Just as he thought that, the shadow slipped through Dale’s fingers. He could no longer feel that shadow, that man, but worse was the sudden absence of the scent and taste of alcohol. Dale closed his fist around the empty air. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He looked to the wall, the other shadow was gone. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Chapter 13</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>“I yearn for something more, to fill my life with something, and though I’d like that thing to be Twin Peaks and its inhabitants, I can’t bring myself to force my feelings upon anyone else. Frankly, I’m finding it difficult to get out of bed in the morning,” Dale said. He stared out through the window and into Harry’s barren backyard. “I don’t have a whole lot of reasons to get out of bed in the morning Harry, besides my job at the bureau, there’s hardly anything to me.”</p><p>“You’re much more than just your job Coop, I know that and so does everyone else,” Harry said.</p><p>It was true that there were some people who let their job consume their entire being, but Dale wasn’t one of them. Dale was enamoured with wildlife. That was one of the first things that Harry had noticed about him, how he couldn’t stop himself from asking about the trees they had in between introductions. He loved all the kinds of foods that were bad for you. Harry had never seen anyone eat that much in one sitting, especially with outright joy on their face, and he wondered about the state of Dale’s teeth.</p><p>“I don’t have much to look forward to,” Dale muttered and drank what was left of his glass of milk.</p><p>“You’ve got a lot to look forward to Coop,” Harry said, still working on his breakfast. “You’ve got a whole lot of life ahead of you.”</p><p>“I suppose you’re right about that Harry, given the average life span,” Dale replied. His eyes skittered to his breakfast, he hadn’t done more than poke at it. it was such a damn shame to see a man who never stopped smiling do nothing but frown.</p><p>Harry could feel the cowardice keeping up his spine to wrap around his vocal cords. He so desperately wanted to do something, he was frustrated by his inability to act or provide Dale any relief, but the words stayed in his mouth.</p><p>“It’s a nice day out,” Harry began, he winced, and felt pathetic that he couldn’t open a conversation without repeating every painful awkward bout of small talk he’d ever had. He refused to look at Dale and continued to stare into his backyard.</p><p>“It does seem like a fine day,” Dale returned, too charitable to point out Harry’s conversational faux pas.</p><p>“I’ve got some work out back that needs doing,” Harry went on, “I started in on it yesterday, but I didn’t get very far. I’m not asking you to help out, city boy, but I do think you could use some sun and fresh air,” he continued, smiling softly when he turned back toward Dale, hoping that it came across as the suggestion it was.</p><p>“I suppose I could sit around and watch you work,” Dale said, returning Harry’s smile.</p><p>Harry couldn’t help but laugh. Even when he wasn’t wholly himself, Dale still made Harry laugh more than anyone else had.</p><p>The sun cleared the tops of the trees by the time they made their way out into the backyard. Dale helped him pick through the rest of the shed, the concussion symptoms were gone and the bruises seemed to be healing well, though Dale did wince once or twice when he bent to lift something. Harry made a concerted effort to make sure that Dale didn’t overwork himself. He wouldn’t have minded if Dale had actually sat there doing nothing, but the help was welcome and anything that got Dale out of his head was probably a good thing.</p><p>What Harry was completely sure was a good thing was the way that Dale hadn’t shut up since they’d first approached the shed. He asked after the purpose and history of every single thing he touched. Harry was happy to oblige and answer every one of Dale’s question, though he was happier to hear Dale go off on tangents about various tools and how they’d been useful in several of his cases.</p><p>He helped Harry lug everything he wasn’t going to keep out the front to his truck, Harry made sure that Dale didn’t take anything he couldn’t handle. They got it all onto the flatbed in a solid twenty minutes. Harry covered the bed with a tarpaulin, and tied it taught over the top, not that he was too worried about anyone stealing from him.</p><p>The daylight and fresh air seemed to do wonders for Dale. Skin flushed from the work and the faint heat, smile barely contained by his face, the sunlight bounced off his gelled hair. It wasn’t any secret that Dale was good looking, but it sure was something to look up from the deck and come face to face with it. There was something of a boyish charm about him. That wide eyed wonder and bottomless enthusiasm, open heart and open mind, it had everyone Dale came into contact with enchanted. And Harry was no exception.</p><p>Something slow moving, like treacle, like motor oil, was beginning to dawn on him.</p><p>They ate dinner out on the back porch, plates in their laps with the light from the house spilling out around them. Long shadows cast across the lawn Harry never tended. Beer and grilled fish, one of Harry’s favourite meals, though he would have preferred to use his grill out here instead of his oven. Dale seemed to be enjoying it anyway, if his muffled sounds of delight were anything to go by.</p><p>“Bet you don’t get stars like this out in the city, eh Coop?” Harry said, knocking back his second Bud Light before he looked over at Dale.</p><p>He was lit from the side by the light coming from the kitchen window. It cut his features sharp, like it was trying to throw off the inky darkness of the night, and it reminded Harry of fumbling around in bed with someone with nothing but the light from the next room to go by. That smile was still present. It couldn’t even be dampened by his chewing.</p><p>“You sure don’t Harry,” Dale said, awestruck wonder clear in his voice as he looked up at the stars.</p><p>The stars shone in Dale’s eyes and that was when the realisation hit Harry. He had fallen for Dale.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>The clouds moved swiftly across the sky, as though they had somewhere to be. They were the colour and consistency of cotton candy. Dale wanted to reach up, pluck them from the sky and feel them melt on his tongue. The sky itself was a startling orange peach. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale was laid out in the grass. It was warm but damp, moistening his clothes where they met the ground, and Dale felt fine sinking into the dirt. It reminded him of being a child. It reminded him of the nostalgia of running in the mud, kicking up dirt, and staining his clothes in a way that always irritated his mother. Being able to lie in the grass was a return to the freedom of having no obligations. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>With his fingers clutching at the air, Dale pretended to break off pieces of the clouds to slip into his mouth. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The sun broke through in a dazzling bleaching of lime green. That shocking light spilled over the whole sky, it tinted what had once been appetizing the colour of fictional toxic waste, and soiled the imagined taste upon his tongue. He let his arm fall limp against the dewy grass. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale dropped the side of his head against the ground and turned his eyes to the contents of the garden. Flowers stood solitary like soldiers, yellow roses tinted orange and green from the sunlight stood against the brown of the fence behind them. Between the gaps of the fence sat chicken wire. A stark barrier around the parameter of the backyard, and Dale wondered whether it was there to keep things out or to keep things in. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The moistness of the grass was beginning to seep through his clothes, chilling his skin. Gooseflesh rose across his arms. He closed his eyes and sunk against the ground. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>At some point, while his eyes were closed, the quality of the air had changed. A scent reached his nose. It was a scent both familiar and foreign to Dale, one he rarely came to himself but had become somewhat enamoured with as of late. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He opened his eyes to find the sky blue, the clouds white and the sun yellow. Things were put right again. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Chapter 14</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>All things considered, Harry thought that he was taking his little revelation quite well. He figured that his own feelings didn’t matter too much when his friend was still struggling. And just like every other time he’d felt something for another man, Harry pushed those feelings deep down and did his best to forget about them. At least that was what he resolved to do as he spat into the sink.</p><p>A muffled voice barely reached his ear through the bathroom door as he shut the facet off.</p><p>The tape recorder had been getting some use over the past couple of days. Harry thought it was a good thing, ‘cause if Dale wasn’t talking to him then at least he had the option of talking into the machine. He allowed himself to take credit for that one.</p><p>Harry had only caught snatches and clips of the monologues Dale let loose into the microphone. Mostly, he heard Dale’s muffled voice through the bathroom door. The shower usually drowned him out, and Harry figured that it was a good thing, since it stopped him from the temptation of eavesdropping.</p><p>He wiped his face with a towel and turned to the door. After the first week of living with Dale, Harry had learnt that moving slow and deliberately was far better than startling Dale. He wouldn’t see Dale scared because of him. When he opened the bathroom door, slow and deliberate, words spilled into the room.</p><p>Harry wasn’t eavesdropping, he had just overheard, but he still felt guilty about it despite the lack of blame.</p><p>“Diane,” Dale said. This was not the usual fast paced, informative and tangential, clipped fashion of speech, instead it was a stumbling self-conscious drawl that spoke of a timid posture. “I hold one more seemingly insurmountable secret from Harry. And while I admit that the revealing other things to him was not the world ending event that it seemed fated to be, I do not feel that this particular revelation will go so smoothly,” he continued, growing more nervous as he spoke.</p><p>Harry moved, loud and purposeful, making sure that Dale would hear him. He didn’t want to overhear more than he could afford, more than Dale could stand, and staggered into the couch on his way to the kitchen.</p><p>“Good morning Harry,” Dale said, his smile was strained. He set the tape recorder down on the counter. “I noticed that you’ve moved from the cot to the couch and Harry,” Dale raised his hand as soon as Harry opened his mouth, stopping him before he could interrupt. “Harry, your quality of sleep is suffering and it can’t be doing your back any good either. These things are important for continued good health. I fear that I’ve kept you from your bed for too long,” he went, expression pained as he stared Harry down.</p><p>“Coop, I don’t mind suffering the couch for a couple of weeks,” Harry returned.</p><p>Of course Dale had made himself coffee, and of course he hadn’t dared to try and make himself breakfast. In all the time they’d spent together, Harry hadn’t seen Dale so much as pour himself a bowl of cereal, and there had to be a story or several behind that. He watched Dale take a sip of coffee before he spoke again.</p><p>“I refuse to allow you to sleep anywhere that isn’t your own bed from now on,” Dale said.</p><p>“Well, you’re not taking the couch or the cot either,” Harry said as he set about preparing breakfast.</p><p>“What do you propose instead?” Dale asked, arms folded over his chest, coffee held under his nose.</p><p>Harry felt like he was playing with fire even as he said it.</p><p>“I figure that the bed’s big enough for the two of us,” he said, shrugging, he set the frying pan down on the stove and rooted through the fridge for what he needed.</p><p>The quiet that followed spelled some sort of disaster, and when Harry closed the fridge and turned back to Dale, the man looked shell shocked.</p><p>“Are you sure you’d be comfortable with that Harry?” Dale asked eventually, swallowing what seemed to be anxious fear. All white around the eyes, it reminded Harry of a spooked horse, and he needed to act carefully lest Dale bolt.</p><p>“Why wouldn’t I be?” Harry returned, nonchalant, and broke a few eggs into a jug.</p><p>“I know it was a few days ago but I doubt that you’ve forgotten that I’m bisexual, that I’m attracted to other men, and the feelings I’ve been struggling with,” Dale said, voice stilted, he watched Harry’s hands work instead of meeting the man’s eyes.</p><p>“And I said that it don’t make no difference to me,” Harry said, he didn’t even look up at Dale, and instead he poured some flour into the jug along with a good dose of milk and began to whisk.</p><p>The only difference it would make was if he was the guy Dale had fallen for, which there was no way that was the case, no matter how nice the thought of it was starting to seem. Harry probably shouldn’t have thought about it in the first place, but he hadn’t been able to stop himself from wondering who it was. Then he’d started to wonder if it was him.</p><p>At first the idea had kind of scared him a little. If they started a relationship, then there was no way that it was going to stay a secret for long, Harry wasn’t a good liar and he wasn’t any good at hiding his feelings either. And if everyone found out, then how was he supposed to protect Dale when he had to protect himself too? People would be coming for the both of them.</p><p>Still, it didn’t take him too long to remember what he’d said to Dale, and what he’d told himself, that most people wouldn’t even be interested. And after that it was almost too easy to slip into the fantasy. It certainly didn’t help that they were practically living together, and the domesticity of their current situation made it all the worse. All he had to do was change the angle to make things fit. The image of them together came too easy, and that had been the thing keeping him from sleep recently, that and the guilt that followed.</p><p>It was nothing but a fantasy though. There was no way that the guy Dale was so torn up over was him, he didn’t match up, and he almost laughed at himself for even considering it. Dale was so smart, so handsome, and so kind and compassionate. There was no way that a guy like that would even give someone like Harry a second thought. All in all, he wasn’t doing a great job at ignoring his own feelings, and that just made the guilt stronger.</p><p>He shook his head free of those idle day dreams and returned to the issue at hand.</p><p>“I ain’t going to argue about it either Coop,” Harry said, and turned toward the stove to ignite the hob, “it’s fine and that’s that,” he added, waiting for the pan to heat up.</p><p>“Alright Harry,” Dale murmured, sliding a cup of coffee across the counter toward Harry. “What are you making?”</p><p>“Pancakes,” Harry replied, pouring out some of the mixture into the pan.</p><p>“I tried to make pancakes once,” Dale said, “the results were disastrous.”</p><p>“That sounds like an exaggeration,” Harry muttered, tongue poking out between his lips as he made sure that the pancake cooked evenly, lifting the edges with a spatula. Sure, pancakes were easy to get wrong, but they were also easy to get right.</p><p>“The fire department had to be called,” Dale stated.</p><p>“What?” Harry said, looking at Dale. He couldn’t help but laugh. Dale was one of the most capable people that Harry had ever met. It always gave him a strange kind of thrill to find something that Dale was bad at, that this man that seemed so put together and unstoppable couldn’t so much as manage pancakes, it was humanising and downright endearing. “What did you do?” Harry asked. He shook his head, smiling as Dale shifted on his feet, looking embarrassed.</p><p>“Apparently I started some kind of oil fire,” Dale said, the tips of his ears were turning red. “The whole kitchen was up in flames before I could do anything.”</p><p>“Jesus,” Harry whistled and flipped the pancake.</p><p>“You make it look incredibly easy,” Dale noted as Harry plated the first pancake and started in on the second.</p><p>Harry tried not to let it get to his head, but Dale seemed so awed by the two stacks of pancakes now sitting between them that it was hard not to get an ego about it. Dale’s smile took up his whole damn face. He slathered his pancakes in butter and drowned them in maple syrup, and Harry worried about the state of his heart and arteries. How Dale stayed so slim Harry would never know.</p><p>As they ate, Harry’s mind wandered guiltily back to what he’d been thinking before. He tried to sweep his feelings away. It was Dale he was supposed to be helping, instead of fantasising about, especially over something that would never happen.</p><p>“You thought about how you’re going to tell this guy that you’re head over heels for him?” Harry asked, and watched as Dale choked on his pancakes.</p><p>“I’ve given it some thought, but nothing I come up with seems adequate,” Dale replied, frowning as though the food had gone sour in his mouth, and Harry hated ruining a good morning but they had to talk about it and sooner rather than later.</p><p>“You could run it by me,” Harry suggested.</p><p>“I don’t know about that Harry,” Dale said, fork held aloft in the air with a piece of pancake sliding off of it.</p><p>“Coop, you’re not going to shock me, and anyway, it’s not like it’s actually me you wanna say these words to,” Harry said, feeling like he was chewing on a light bulb. “They do role play at Quantico right?”</p><p>“Yes,” Dale said, still quite perturbed.</p><p>“Well then, we can do that,” Harry said. He took a bite of pancake, chewed and swallowed quickly. “You can pretend to be you and I’ll pretend to be whoever the guy is.”</p><p>“I’ll think about it and get back to you,” Dale said. He swallowed some coffee before returning to the now soggy pancakes. Harry nodded in recognition. There’d be no use in pushing Dale further. You could lead a horse to water, but you couldn’t make a special agent spill his guts on the kitchen table.</p><p>Neither of them was going to like it, but nothing worth doing was easy, and Harry was determined to put Dale first.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>The snow was melted around the wreckage. Smoke plumed, twisting and turning up into the air. The fire played bright orange, red, and yellow onto the snow. There wasn’t much left of the car. It was just a charred frame of what once had been, still burning long after it’d died. Dale stood in the sludge, felt it seep into his shoes, and surveyed the scene. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Grand theft auto and arson seemed to be the likeliest suspects, perhaps they should be looking for a group of teens with nothing better to do, he thought.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>Something moved between the trees beyond the wreck. It was hard to see through the heat distorted air and the smoke, but the movement had been unmistakable. Dale quickly moved around the burnt out husk of the car. His feet sunk into the fresh snow, he considered his shoes ruined, and lamented the pain he’d be feeling later when the heat finally returned to his toes. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Now with the fire behind him, Dale could peer into the woods. A shadow appeared to be moving further into the forest. With nothing but the retreating light of the fire and the moonlight to guide his way, Dale followed the form. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He wasn’t dressed for the weather or the terrain. The cold was beginning to bite in through his coat. His breath was streaming out in front of him like steam, like smoke from the cigarettes he tried to ignore the allure of. The cuffs of his pants were flapping wetly against his ankles. His shoes were formal and meant for making an appearance of professionalism, they weren’t made for hiking through the snowy woods, and he had to be careful about his footing. One wrong step and he would end up with an escaped suspect and a broken ankle. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The light from the fire, the car turned inferno, was now nothing but a memory. Dale stayed focused on the form moving between and through the trees. It was a shape, a shadow, a silhouette, and nothing more than the suggestion of a man in the distance. Dale followed it until his face, hands and legs were numb. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Suddenly, he found himself in a clearing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>A campfire stood in the middle. It crackled and spat embers into the night air, chewing on the wood consumed by it. A mustard yellow tent stood a safe distance from the fire. Light spilled from inside, it threw shadows across the tent like canvas. It was a shape, a shadow, a silhouette, and the unmistakable outline of a man crouched in a tent. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale approached the campfire, hoping to warm up and get some of the feeling back in his hands at least. He sat on a log, facing the tent with the fire between them. The zipper of the tent slowly opened.</em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0015"><h2>15. Chapter 15</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Waking up next to Dale was a problem. He didn’t wash the product out of his hair before he went to bed, and he woke up every morning with the most comical cowlick Harry had ever seen. That first morning, he’d practically fallen out of bed laughing. Dale always wore those blue pyjamas. Harry had even gone out to get Dale some extra clothes, but they were still doing laundry almost every day. Dale smelt good. He smelt like Harry’s detergent and his own expensive (or at least more expensive than whatever Harry used) deodorant. Waking up next to Dale was like sinking into a fantasy.</p><p>Sleeping beside Dale was dangerous. Harry found himself thinking about wrapping his arms around Dale, pulling the man flush against his body, and holding on tight until everything was alright again.</p><p>Harry forced himself out of bed and away from those thoughts and temptations. He ran the shower cold. It had been a long time since he’d had to have one, and they had been a mainstay in his teenage years. Those days had been coloured by shame and guilt. Like the shame and guilt of developing feelings for the captain of the football team. Every little bit of praise and positive attention tasted like the sweetest treat, and those treats turned to ash in his mouth when the realisation set in that what he felt was wrong. Of course he knew different now, but it was probably a good thing he’d never gone after the football captain, he could have died. It was awful to think but he really could have died.</p><p>Back in those days, his father, no doubt sensing the difference in Harry, had once put the morning paper down in front of him. He hadn’t said anything and simply rose from the kitchen table. An article stood out, about a boy roughly his age that had been killed by a group of guys from his school, it didn’t spare the gory details. The article didn’t say it outright, but it was apparent that the boy was presumed queer. That still stuck with him, even after all these years.</p><p>The water sent gooseflesh rolling over his skin. He wasn’t going to die because he had feelings for Dale, that he knew for sure, but there was no way he could make a move. Dale was interested in someone else and Dale was also in an incredibly fragile state. He had enough on his plate without Harry adding more to it.</p><p>When he came out of the shower, Harry found Dale sat at the kitchen table, coffee in hand. He was still clad in those blue pyjamas. Somehow he had tamed his hair, and Harry suspected that he’d just applied more product to it.</p><p>“Good morning Harry,” Dale said, more chipper than he’d been since before he’d gone into the Black Lodge. That sunny-side-up smile shone at Harry. It was blinding and warm, and it was undoing all the cold shower’s work.</p><p>“Mornin’ Coop,” Harry muttered in reply and moved toward the coffee maker. He wondered if he had been drinking more coffee since Dale came to town, it was hard to tell, but Harry would have bet on it. It was better than turning to whiskey anyway.</p><p>“Harry, let’s get this whole role play thing over with,” Dale announced and set his coffee down with a clink.</p><p>“On an empty stomach?” Harry asked.</p><p>“I made up my mind the instant I woke up and would like to get this over and done with as quickly as possible,” Dale replied, staring straight back at Harry.</p><p>“I don’t think rushing through it is really going to do much good Coop,” Harry said, frowning. Dale could at least let him get something in his stomach before he had to sit there and listen to Dale pretending to confession his feelings to him.</p><p>“We could try again later, but I feel that it’s best to rip the band-aid off and get it over with,” Dale reiterated. There was certainly defiance in his voice, but Harry could see the fear in way he couldn’t quite sit still.</p><p>Dale was being brave again, and Harry figured he should try doing that himself.</p><p>“Alright, just let me make some toast first,” Harry muttered. He went about fixing them both some toast, with butter and jam. He poured himself a cup of coffee and topped up Dale’s. Dale didn’t move an inch until Harry sat down, and he didn’t wait for Harry to start eating before he dived right in.</p><p>“Harry, I hope you won’t mind me using your name during this endeavour,” Dale said, fingers skidding over the crusts of his toast.</p><p>Harry almost chocked. He hadn’t thought about that, he naively hadn’t thought much about this whole role play thing at all. Of course Dale would have to use his name. It was obvious that Dale wasn’t about to come out and tell him who it was he really had feelings for, and it would sound unnatural if Dale avoided using names.</p><p>“Go ahead Coop,” Harry said, doing his best to be the supportive friend instead of the pinning oaf he felt like.</p><p>Dale took a long sip of his coffee, swallowed, and began.</p><p>“Harry,” he started, tone shifting into something more serious, “I know we haven’t known each other all that long in the grand scheme of things, but over the time we’ve spent together I’ve grown quite attached to you.” Dale’s mouth was stiff, his fingers twitched against the cooling toast. He brought a slice up to his mouth but only gnawed on the corner before setting it back down. “I wouldn’t want to jeopardize our friendship, which I have the highest regard for, but I can no longer contain the feelings I have for you.”</p><p>Dale’s eyes cut away from him and finally Harry could breathe. It felt like his heart had stopped the moment that Dale said his name, now it was pounding double time against his ribs. He took a large bite out of his toast, just for something to do with his mouth, so he wouldn’t say something stupid.</p><p>“Frankly Harry, I feel haunted by you, the feelings I have for you, and it’s quite distressing. I wish I could do something about it, but really I don’t think I can,” Dale said, his eyes were focused somewhere around the region of Harry’s shoulder. “I’m not asking or expecting for you to return these feelings, I’m telling you simply because I can no long contain them and though I fear they will irrevocably change the bond between us, I cannot stop them.”</p><p>Harry wanted so desperately to comfort Dale in some way. This was obviously very difficult for him. Dale’s chest was rising and falling in swift shallow movements, and his breath had at some point become audible. His hands were clearly shaking. But Harry stayed where he was, he had to let Dale finish.</p><p>“Harry, I think I love you,” Dale said, staring straight into Harry’s eyes, like he was staring down the barrel of a shotgun. Harry didn’t know what Dale was expecting, but he sure looked like he expected to get hit and the sight just about broke Harry’s heart.</p><p>It had been a while since someone had told him that they loved him, and this wasn’t even real. Harry felt pathetic. He wished he could manage some way to pour a little whiskey and milk into his coffee without Dale noticing, but Dale would notice and Harry felt kinda awful just thinking about it. And surely wallowing at the bottom of a bottle wasn’t going to help anyone. This wasn’t about him.</p><p>“See, that wasn’t so bad was it, Coop?” Harry asked as he reached over the table and put his hand over Dale’s, he rubbed his thumb over Dale’s knuckles.</p><p>“It might just have been the most painful thing I’ve ever been through,” Dale replied flatly, and took his first real bite of his now cool toast.</p><p>“You got shot,” Harry said, laughing lightly, and withdrew his hand.</p><p>“I was also stabbed in the chest, but neither of those events come close to this sensation,” Dale said, lightly rubbing at his chest, as though the pain he was feeling were physical.</p><p>“Well, I’m sorry to hear that,” Harry said, and tried to smile at Dale.</p><p>“Don’t be sorry Harry, you’ve been more than accommodating, and besides I feel like I’m the one that should be sorry,” Dale replied, and sighed. He finished off the first slice off toast and started in on the second. “I feel like I’m keeping you from living your life,” he added, after swallowing half a slice of toast and a mouthful of coffee.</p><p>“Coop,” Harry sighed, “I don’t know if you noticed, but I don’t have a lot going on at the moment and I think the town will get on fine without me for a little while,” he said, sad that Dale felt so awful about himself that he couldn’t see that he was a part of Harry’s life.</p><p>“But Harry this can’t last forever,” Dale said, and finished his toast, frowning as he chewed.</p><p>Harry knew that, he couldn’t stay away from the station forever, and realistically he could only afford to spend another week at home. He couldn’t wake up next to Dale for the rest of his life without it causing the both of them some kind of harm. It was hurting him and it just wasn’t fair on Dale.</p><p>Something would have to give and soon, and Harry was quietly terrified about it.</p><p> </p><hr/><p> </p><p>
  <em>Dale was coming out of his skin. The organ, the largest of all the organs, couldn’t contain him. His heart was a humming bird, and it fluttered wildly in the cage of his ribs. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The room was pulsing, vibrating, thrumming. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>His vision was blurred, blurring, and everything was moving. He couldn’t focus on one thing, but there was only one thing on his mind. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>There was broken glass on the floor. The scent of whiskey was beginning to fill the room. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Everything was spilling out and Dale couldn’t keep it in. Guts, intestines twisting and writing like eels on the sodden floor, blood pooling at his feet. It sunk into the carpet, squelching. His heart was on display through his now shattered ribs. His eyes were glass, clear as windows, and anyone would be able to look and see straight through him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Call him Mr. Cellophane. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Everything inside was now outside, opened like a corpse on an autopsy table. People were rooting around in the insides come outsides. Filing through his dirty laundry, pulling skeletons out of the closet, digging up long buried secrets and they held them up to examine them. Evidence. It was all evidence of Dale’s true state. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Dale tried to tell them that they shouldn’t touch him, they shouldn’t touch the things pouring out of him. It was all toxic waste. He was a biohazard. His organs would rip through their hands and taint them too. They wouldn’t be able to wash it off, they would never be able to get rid of the terrible mark he’d left. These people should leave. He wasn’t worth the effort, and he wasn’t worth the wasted time and oxygen. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Head lights passed through the window, moving like search lights over Dale’s broken rotten body. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The scent of whiskey had become so strong. It was making him dizzy. A headache came on like a hurricane, and he couldn’t do much against it beside clutch his head. Fingers dug into his scalp as he tried to hold his head together. The screech of tires was loud and piercing, and the head lights continued to move over him. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>He wanted it to stop. He wanted it all to stop. He didn’t want to cause anymore harm. He wanted it all to go away. He wanted to go away. He wanted to disappear. </em>
</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0016"><h2>16. Chapter 16</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Harry woke to the sound of his truck struggling to start, clearly whoever was trying to steal it didn’t know how to drive stick, and they were sure giving his clutch hell. He turned to where he expected Dale to be and found the other half of the bed empty. Quickly, he put two and two together, and fumbled into his boots and staggered out of the house.</p><p>The noise had stopped by the time Harry made it out his front door.</p><p>Dale was sat in the cab of his truck, bent over himself, forehead pressed against the steering wheel. It was a sorry sight. Harry’s heart panged when he noticed that Dale was still in his blue pyjamas. He climbed into the truck.</p><p>“Never thought I’d catch Special Agent Dale Cooper committing grand theft auto,” Harry joked, trying to keep the tone light. He reached over, switched the engine off and took the keys out of the ignition. “I suppose you city boys aren’t used to driving stick huh?”</p><p>“I love you Harry,” Dale muttered, words unmistakable even as they were muffled against the steering wheel and his arms.</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“Please take me seriously when I say this,” Dale said, lifting his head to look at Harry, face as serious as a heart attack, “I love you.”</p><p>“Okay,” Harry said.</p><p>“Okay?” Dale repeated. He furrowed his brows as he stared back at Harry.</p><p>“Damn Coop, give me a second, I’m not firing on all cylinders here,” Harry returned. He scrubbed at his face with his hands, trying to clear the sleep away. He almost couldn’t believe it and he wondered if he was still asleep, it sure as hell felt like a dream. But it wasn’t a dream and Dale was waiting for him to say something. “Well, uh,” the words wouldn’t come out, it felt like they were glued to the roof of his mouth and he couldn’t get them down onto his tongue.</p><p>“It’s alright Harry,” Dale said, he hung his head, leaning against the steering wheel again, “you don’t have to say anything, I know that my feelings are not wanted or returned,” he added.</p><p>“But that’s just the thing Coop, they are, I’m just not real good at saying it,” Harry said. The last time he’d said those words, they’d hung in the air like they meant nothing. Josie hadn’t said it back and that had stung more than he wanted to admit. It stung more to find out that she’d been using him, maybe she did have some kind of feelings for him, but in hindsight it was clear that she’d looked to him mostly for safety and protection.</p><p>Dale wasn’t Josie. Dale had said those words first, and he’d said them three times already. First when he knew that Harry wouldn’t understand the true meaning of them, how they were specifically directed at him. Then moments ago, Dale had said them again. Seemingly unable to keep them inside anymore, they’d spilled free from his mouth like bile, fallen like petals. And, immediately after, he had begged to be heard, to be taken seriously, to be taken at his words. Harry could only wish to be so brave.</p><p>Instead of trying and failing again, Harry chose action, he’d always been much better at that than he was with words. Harry moved up and leaned across the seat toward Dale. Their elbows bumped as Harry captured Dale’s face in his hands, and kissed him. With one hand cupped around Dale’s cheek, he wrapped his arm around Dale’s lithe form and pulled him close. His lips were soft and his mouth was stale.</p><p>When Dale started to move against him, it was like a dream. Fingers slid into Harry’s hair, toying with his curls, nails scraping at his scalp. He sighed into Dale’s mouth. Warm and wire strung, Dale moved over him like a panther, mouth hot and wet, hands almost possessive as he clutched at Harry.</p><p>Before things got away from him, Harry figured that they should take this inside. Especially since Dale was still fragile, shaking like a leaf as though he thought Harry wouldn’t notice, and he didn’t want to take advantage of Dale. He pulled away, reluctantly, and held the other man at a distance.</p><p>“Let’s go back inside,” Harry said, he ran his thumb over the barely there stubble on Dale’s jaw, “get you some coffee,” he added.</p><p>“I think that’s a great idea Harry,” Dale said, smiling that 100 watt blinding smile, Harry swore he could replace the sun with that thing.</p><p>As Harry was closing the door behind them, he noticed that Dale wasn’t wearing any shoes and the little piece of information was a clear sign of how close to the edge Dale had come. He didn’t say anything about it. Instead he led the way into the kitchen.</p><p>He could feel Dale following behind him, practically thrumming with renewed energy.</p><p>It was a shame that Harry was about to burst that bubble. There was a lot to talk about and Harry was under no illusions and knew that he hadn’t magically fixed everything with a single kiss. This wasn’t a fairytale. Even as he thought it, he could feel Dale deflating.</p><p>“Coop?” Harry said, brow arched as he turned toward Dale.</p><p>Dale was stood between Harry and the kitchen table, under the dim fluorescent tube light. It was quite the domestic sight. Dale was washed out in the warm light, wearing his pyjamas with his slicked back hair. It was all too easy to cast him as the boyfriend of Harry’s dreams. Though, the downturn of his features didn’t quite fit that image.</p><p>“I suppose we should discuss some things,” Dale said, fingers toying with the hem of his shirt.</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry returned with a nod.</p><p>“In that case Harry, I think some of that whiskey you keep under the sink would be more fitting than coffee,” Dale said, staring flat back at Harry.</p><p>He left the coffee maker alone for the first time in over two weeks and pulled out two glasses, and grabbed the whiskey from under the sink, exactly where Dale said it would be. He followed Dale into the living room. Dale switched the television on and turned the volume down low. They sat on the couch, bathed in the steady glow from the TV screen. Harry set the glasses down on the coffee table and poured out a measure of whiskey for them both.</p><p>“I suppose I should start with the Black Lodge,” Dale began, he took the glass from Harry with a quiet thanks before he continued, “I don’t know if everyone experiences that space the same way, but for me it was a maze of jagged zig-zag black and white tiled flooring and blood red floor to ceiling curtains. The rooms were all the same with slight variation. Running through similar room after similar room was maddening enough on its own,” he reeled off, stopping only to take a sip of his whiskey, he sneered at the taste and swallowed sharply. Harry would have laughed, it was an endearing sight, but Dale was in the middle of describing what might have been the worst experience of his life.</p><p>At that thought, Harry took a swig of his own drink.</p><p>“I saw Laura and Madeline, and the dwarf and the giant, and I met their doppelgangers. At first things didn’t seem all that different from the first time I had visited that place in my dreams. Someone was singing, as though they were beckoning me in, they sung about the sycamore trees. I was offered a cup of coffee but it was wrong, it kept changing states, and I spilt it.” It all seemed to come out in one long breath, and Harry was a little surprised that he was able to understand him.</p><p>It was clear that they were approaching the real horror, Dale had begun to shake, amber liquid sloshed in his glass. His eyes flitted across the room, seemingly unable to stick to any one thing for too long. Harry put his hand on Dale’s shoulder. Dale took a deep breath and another sneering sip of whiskey, and continued.</p><p>“When I entered one of the rooms I felt this incredible pain. Quickly I realised that I had felt something very similar before when I was stabbed. When I looked down at my shirt it was soaked in blood. On the floor, I had left a trail of bloody footprints. I followed them,” Dale stopped and finished off his drink in one long gulp, when he pulled the glass away from his mouth he began to cough, Harry held onto him a little tighter. “In the next room I saw myself and Caroline lying on the floor, covered in blood, as Windom Earle had left us. Then Caroline became Annie and the two of them interchanged in an impossible to follow conversation.” He closed his eyes. “Harry, could you pour me another drink, I doubt I’ll have the nerve to finish without it,” he asked.</p><p>“Sure,” Harry said, and took the glass from Dale’s shaking hand. He finished off his own drink, figuring he could use another himself, and poured them both a second. Carefully, he passed Dale the glass.</p><p>“Thank you,” Dale murmured, he took a gentle sip and seemed to be more used to it, at least he managed not to sneer. “Windom appeared, asked for my soul and stabbed me. Then <em>Bob</em> appeared. <em>Bob</em> captured Windom, and I think <em>Bob</em> consumed his soul.</p><p>I ran out of the room. I was pursued by my own doppelganger, he had the same milky eyes as the rest had,” Dale’s eyes fell on the television and he stopped speaking for some time.</p><p>Harry followed his gaze. Some documentary about what appeared to be the war of independence was playing. The reds and blues stood vivid on Dale’s pale skin. Harry turned to watch Dale when he began to talk again, eyes still stuck to the screen as he spoke.</p><p>“He caught up to me, my doppelganger, and whisper into my ear. He spoke of the secrets I had been keeping. That, though I have found myself falling in love with women, I am not as heterosexual as I pretend to be. He whispered that everyone knew about my proclivity for men, but most especially that everyone knew how I felt about you,” Dale said and swallowed, as though he still wasn’t sure how Harry felt about that, Harry smiled and took Dale’s free hand in his own. “He said that my feelings were plainly obvious, that every smile and every touch, and every rambling explanation of esoteric facts and investigation techniques were bright neon signs. He said that everyone knew and that they were all disgusted by it. They knew I was rotten, poisonous. He said that I would ruin everything that I touched,” he laughed dryly to himself at that, and squeezed Harry’s hand. “He told me that I would ruin you, and I believed him because, well, I’ve ruined every other relationship I’ve been in.”</p><p>“Coop,” Harry said softly, and slipped his fingers between Dale’s, “what happened to Caroline and Annie isn’t your fault,” he assured.</p><p>“I still shoulder the blame,” Dale said with a shrug and took a swig of his drink.</p><p>Harry knew it wasn’t the time to argue about that, but he slid it into his back pocket to come back to later.</p><p>“Other things occurred, I only remember snatches, and eventually I somehow broke away from the doppelganger. I recalled something Hawk had said about the lodge, about facing yourself. I believe, though I’m not certain, that I caught the doppelganger and I think this is what brought me to my current state. That I confronted some reflection of myself and it brought a deep pain and fear out of me that I had been ignoring and avoiding for a long time,” Dale said and finished off his second drink.</p><p>“Gee Coop,” Harry said, mostly because he wasn’t sure about what he should say but felt like he should say something. “You know all that’s not true, right?”</p><p>“I know now, yes, but at the time it felt inevitable, inescapable,” Dale said, voice wavering slightly, he wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “When I woke up in the Great Northern, I felt quite strange and you were right there,” he went on, gripping Harry’s hand tight. “I won’t explain what happened in the bathroom, but I spent the next week in a state of heightened anxiety bordering on paranoia.</p><p>“I chronicled the events as best as I could to Diane, and spoke of my fear. I’ve always had the upmost confidence in Diane and didn’t doubt that she would edit my account should I say anything incriminating. Though these tapes didn’t reach her, to the best of my knowledge at least one of them was destroyed in the crash and the rest fell into Albert’s possession,” Dale explained.</p><p>The lights blasted on Dale’s face changed colour, they were now stark black and white, but Harry didn’t bother to tear his eyes away from Dale to see what the programming had changed to.</p><p>“During a moment of acute anxiety, likely suffering from a panic attack, I checked out of the Great Northern. When I got into the car, I firmly believed without a shadow of a doubt that I would corrupt the town and you if I stayed any longer. I was in no state to drive, and so the crash was quite inevitable.” His palm was clammy against Harry’s. He rested the hand still holding the now empty glass against his leg. “Seeing you in the hospital, day after day, alleviated those feelings somewhat. Every time I saw you, it was evident that nothing had changed and I was presented with evidence that went against my troubling thoughts.”</p><p>“I’m glad, ‘cause I’m not gonna lie Coop, you kinda scared me,” Harry said, genuinely relieved as he stroked his thumb against the back of Dale’s hand.</p><p>“I know,” Dale murmured, he smiled weakly and looked over at Harry. “It was apparent, though perhaps only to me, that you drank a few glasses of whiskey before bed those nights.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry drew out, his eyes flicked to the near empty glass in his hand.</p><p>“It’s fine Harry, though it’s not a healthy coping strategy, you were distressed at the time,” Dale assured, he laid his head against the back of the couch.</p><p>“So, what did Albert have to say about all this?” Harry asked.</p><p>“He told me to pull myself together,” Dale replied, his smile turned sharp and Harry shook his head. “Albert made it clear that if I didn’t get over myself then my feelings for you wouldn’t have an opportunity to ruin my career at the bureau because my anxious behaviour would have done it first,” he went on.</p><p>“Well, he’s always had a way with words,” Harry muttered and they both laughed, happy to move away from the darker subject matter.</p><p>“Yes, he does. He told me, point blank, that the only way to tackle this fear was to face it head on and confess my feelings to you. Now I suspect that he might have known of your feelings too,” Dale said.</p><p>“I wouldn’t put it past him,” Harry replied and finished off his whiskey.</p><p>“When you suggested that we do some role play, I got so scared that you would notice that I wasn’t really acting, but when it was done I was horribly disappointed that you hadn’t noticed. And the fear returned. I simply couldn’t face the idea of having to confess to you again. I had such an awful nightmare and woke up in a fit. I’m quite thankful that I don’t know how to drive stick,” Dale explained, at first nervously but finished with a gentle laugh that made Harry’s stomach summersault.</p><p>“Me too,” Harry said, and smiled back at Dale. “I’m sorry Coop, but I just couldn’t believe that it was me you were this messed up over,” he confessed.</p><p>“There’s no need to apologise Harry, I understand the feeling perfectly.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry breathed. “I’ve never really been with a guy Coop, I don’t really know how it all works, but I know that what I feel in here,” he added and tapped the joint of his thumb against his sternum.</p><p>“It works almost exactly as a heterosexual relationship does,” Dale stated.</p><p>“I suppose that makes sense,” Harry said with a nod. “I just, what the hell do you even seen in me Coop?” He asked, ducking his head slightly even as he waited for Dale’s reply.</p><p>“Harry, I think I fell for you the moment I met you,” Dale said, smiling warmly. “It was apparent that you cared greatly for your town, felt for the fate of Laura Palmer, and despite all that you still humoured me and answered my question about the trees,” he explained, staring down at their entwined hands. “Those things are the basis for all the things I find attractive about you.”</p><p>“I don’t know about all that Coop, but I sure am glad that I’m the guy you were talking about,” Harry said, scratching at the back of his neck.</p><p>“And I’m glad that you return my feelings Harry,” Dale said.</p><p>“I don’t think that there’s a person in this whole town who isn’t at least a little in love with you,” Harry said. Dale just had a way about him that drew people in. “You’re the best guy I’ve ever met. You’re smart, handsome and kind, and those are just the obvious things.”</p><p>“Harry, in this moment, I feel unbelievably lucky,” Dale said softly.</p><p>“Me too.”</p><p>They sat there for a moment just smiling at each other. Harry took Dale’s empty glass and set it down with his own on the coffee table. He put his knee on the couch, between them, and kissed Dale again. It was odd to taste whiskey on Dale’s lips. When he sat back, Dale was smiling again. The sight made Harry dizzy. It was either that or the whiskey, he wasn’t sure.</p><p>“Let’s go back to bed,” Harry said, despite the way sunlight was starting to poke through the gaps in the curtains. No one would mind if they slept in. it had been a long night and they sure as hell deserved the rest. They could leave the other conversations, of Dale’s career, of what Dale was going to do and where he was going to stay, of how they would navigate their relationship in a small town, they could leave all of that for tomorrow. It could all wait until they’d slept, showered and had a cup of coffee and a decent breakfast.</p><p>“I’d like that very much,” Dale said with a nod and they rose from the couch.</p><p>They climbed into bed. Harry wrapped his arms around Dale and pulled him in close, just like he’d been thinking about doing a few days ago. Dale buried his face into Harry’s chest and sighed deeply.</p><p>“I love you too, Coop,” Harry murmured softly into Dale’s hair.</p><p> </p>
<hr/><p> </p><p><em>Dale could smell the thick scent of trees, </em>Douglas firs<em>, rolling in through the open window. He closed his eyes, sighing as it filled his nostrils. The wind flowed through his hair. There really was something about being driven through nature, and Dale rarely had the opportunity to relax in the passenger seat. </em></p><p>
  <em>The road they were following was long and winding, and Dale didn’t want it to end. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“You enjoying yourself there Coop?” Harry asked, humour evident in his voice.</em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Completely,” Dale replied with a sigh and sunk a little further into his seat. Harry’s gruff laugh reached his ears. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Everything about Harry was pleasant, Dale found. The man was dependable, honest, stable, decisive, kind and of course ruggedly handsome. Dale counted himself lucky to have found such a man. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>Harry had welcomed him with open arms. Harry had introduced him to the Double R diner and Norma’s knockout pies. Harry had listened to and gone along with all of Dale’s out unorthodox investigation techniques. Harry had told him the name of the trees and various animals he’d encountered in the Twin Peaks wilderness. Harry had made a lure just for him. Harry had sat out in the woods for about two days waiting for him. As far as Dale was concerned, Harry was one hell of a catch. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>The road markings disappeared beneath the car. They came and went like friends standing on the roadside waving them on and wishing them well on their journey. They didn’t have a destination, but they’d only just started their journey. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Where do you want to go?” Harry asked, as the trees blurred past him. The woodsy colour palate suited him well. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Harry, my placement on a map is of no consequence. As long as I’m in your company, where I am does not matter,” Dale said, feeling dizzy as he said it, his face was beginning to ache from all the smiling he’d been doing. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>“Alright Coop,” Harry said, smiling in that slow way that spread across his whole face. Dale loved that smile, he loved that smile as much as he loved the whole man. </em>
</p><p>
  <em>And it was true, that he didn’t care where they were. Dale felt free. He felt like there was nothing that he couldn’t face with Harry at his side. When he woke up, he would face the new day and its challenges with the knowledge that Harry was there to support him. Dale couldn’t wait to finally wake up. </em>
</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>So that's all folks!<br/>Hey y'all thank you so much for reading, please leave me a comment and tell me what you think. <br/>You can catch me on tumblr @ theweakestthing and twitter @ th_weakestthing<br/>See ya on the next one! x</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
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